I had another birthday recently. Yeah, I know. There's at least one of those dratted things every year (seems like more than that, I swear). Thing was, this year's dreaded B-day was actually a happy event. Call me slow, but my facebook account is still aged by months, not years, and because my birthday is displayed, tons of my friends wished me a happy day.
Moreover, and better still, I had special time with three special someones that mean a lot to me. If my memory weren't already full of holes, I'd want to pack that day up in curlicues with confetti and balloons so that I could savor the moment whenever I felt blue. But alas, the memory is failing, much like the joints are creaking and the fat is settling (yikes!) and I must bottle happiness in more ways than one just to ensure that some of it survives for the future.
Praises to my well-wishers, you know who you are, and to every blessed light in the dark tunnel of life. May I find my way safely to the other side, or die laughing with a candle--even if it's a birthday candle.
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