Another Day Older

I try to think of my birthday as just that: I am one day older than I was yesterday. It's hard to think that way when you are goal-oriented and the goal you've been orienting towards for many years (ugh!) is still left as an unfinished and seemingly impossible task.

For those of you who only know me in the blogosphere I'm sure I seem quite sad. I assure you I'm really not, it's just that I tend to write when I am feeling down more than when I am feeling good.

My Mom called last night, ostensibly to wish me a happy birthday, but of course the conversation quickly turned to herself and of course, my brother. She asked me how I was doing "dealing with it all". The best I could sputter out was that my relationship with him was much different than anyone else's, but I was doing fine, thank you. And yes, I looked at all the pictures from the funeral and I'm still fine. Perhaps the fact that I don't have children makes it impossible for me to know what she is going through. Or perhaps I'm so used to her being in crisis that even when a genuine one presents itself, I still have no empathy.

Maybe I'm just tired. This working FT crap sucks! I honestly don't know how I did it for 15 years straight without blinking an eye. I want to sleep in. I want to go to the gym. I want to have lunch on a week day with friends. I want to take my dogs for a walk along the shoreline.

Well at least it's a good day to have a party. Too bad it's a big pity party! (Everyone sing along with me.)