This morning I got up at the crack of dawn and swam a kilometer's worth of laps, which I normally do, then came home and ate a massive bowl of Alphabits, which I normally don't do – effectively undoing all my hard work. But that was my birthday present to myself, and I'm the boss anyhow, and also it should be said that there may or may not be a DQ blizzard sitting in my freezer waiting for me after Margot goes down for a nap. (There is.)
When I went in to get her up for the day, Margot gave me a spot-on rendition of a wolf's howl, then when I sneezed, she looked at me and said, "Um...gross." So far today we've listened to "Africa" by Toto on full blast, we rode on a carousel, and I kissed that girl on the lips too many times by her standards, and not enough times by mine.
I heard a song on the radio this morning - That Wasn't Me, by Brandi Carlile – it prompted me to ask myself a question she asks herself: "Do I make myself a blessing to everyone I meet?" Well, no; I doubt very much that I do – that's a tall order. It's a lot simpler, I imagine, to be as such to friends, acquaintances or passers by, but it's a far larger fish to fry in the presence of my best girl and my best guy, who spend more than their fair share of time with me, whether they like it or not. But I'm up for the challenge; being allowed to experience a 33rd year on this planet is a blessing, to say the least. And I owe my most sincere gratitude to each of you friends and members of my family, whether your path has crossed mine just ever so briefly, or whether we ran on the same track for years. I'm blessed to know you, and am grateful for your presence in my life no matter how little or big.
At any rate, today is a good day. It's near impossible to be in a bad mood on one's birthday, isn't it?