Something very exciting is going to happen to me, tomorrow. I’d thought that my recent trip was all the fun one person could stand in a lifetime, let alone a single week, but there is no stopping this. Ready or not, time is marching onward.
Actually, a whole bunch of exciting things are happening tomorrow, if you want to get technical about it. It’s pretty much going to be a non-stop bonanza of ECSTASY around here! Wooooooo!
You’re jealous. It’s okay; I understand. It’s a natural response. Don’t hate me because my life is thrilling!
Anyway, tomorrow. Let’s see. Oh, right!
Tomorrow morning I’ll drag the kids out of bed–they have been loathe to greet the morning since my return–and rudely force them to go to camp and have some fun, dammit. They will dawdle over breakfast while I pack their lunchbags full of food that they will either throw away or smush into the bottom of their backpacks.
Tomorrow at midday I will meet a friend for lunch because she insisted that we have lunch tomorrow. Eating is good. I like to eat.
Tomorrow afternoon I’ll take Monkey to his kindergarten open house, where he’ll meet his teacher and explore his new room. Of course, he’s having the same teacher Chickadee had two years ago, in the room right next door to the room he was in last year, but whatever. It will still be An Event.
Tomorrow night I’ll pick up something for dinner, shake the packages the children have wrapped in paper and three rolls of scotch tape, and ask them if they got me a puppy. No? Not a puppy?? A hippo? No? They will giggle and protest and then crawl all over me once I’ve unwrapped whatever it is and demand that I tell them how much I like it. “Oh, I LOVE it!” I will tell them. They’ll be pleased.
[I have verified that neither package is large enough to contain a Chia Pet of any variety. Thank goodness. RIP, Freaky Tweety-head Chia.]
Then I will open the cards I received from my parents. I usually cheat and open them right when they arrive, but apparently 34 is the age at which you develop the patience to wait until your actual birthday to open stuff. Though I’m not sure it’s at all related to patience. I think it’s more that I’ve finally given up on the idea of a particular day being anything more than a reminder of all the things I was sure would change this past year and didn’t. But, hey! There’s always next year to screw up!
I jest, of course. Birthdays are important. Yes! And I am all about nurturing myself. Why, I have arranged things such that I will be basking in a veritable embarrassment of pampering for my birthday this year. It’s true! Behold!
Birthday gifts I have already given myself:
* A fabulous getaway with friends (which, I forgot to mention before, included a “I’m blogging this” t-shirt from Joshilyn)!
* A dead-sexy dress I neither needed nor will I ever probably wear!
* Guest blogging some snark that needed OUT but didn’t need to be HERE!
* Pretty shoes!
* Renewal of my car registration!
* A fun-filled trip to the dump!
And as if THAT wasn’t ENOUGH….
Birthday gifts I shall be receiving tomorrow or the next day:
* Lunch! Because, hey… sometimes, I don’t have lunch!
* Something my children picked out!
* A mystery item in the mail, I think, maybe; because Kira will tell me nothing more than “Your birthday is on THURSDAY. NOT Wednesday. Yes, let’s pretend it IS. On THURSDAY. Okay!”
* A state inspection sticker for my car!
* A thrilling bone density scan!
I tell you what. 34 is pretty darn exciting, already. It’s possible that turning 35 will flat-out KILL ME. Assuming that I’m getting enough calcium and my bones haven’t all turned to dust by then, anyway. Oh, the suspense!