Yeah, that’s right. Yours truly turned forty-five today. Husband and daughters took me out for a tasty sushi lunch – I had to work today. Somehow, nobody was home when I got home from work, so I took a birthday bath, cut my nails, put on old lady eye cream. And here we are. You and me. I just finished several sentences.

The work day was annoying, though a friend brought in some donuts, many of which Mimi and Beenie inhaled when they picked me up for our noonish outing.

Work and family life suck up much of my time these days. Then it’s 10:30 and I can’t do much more than pick out my clothes for the next day and pass out.

Thought about having a birthday thing this year, but honestly, I’m just too tired. Would like to honor my inner bear and hibernate till spring. I don’t think that is such an unreasonable request. However, I doubt I will be granted my wish.

As I sit in front of the fake fire, watching Olive cat basking in its glow, lying on top of birthday presents assembled under the Christmas tree for yours truly, I am fully in the moment of forty-five. I don’t feel old, but definitely don’t feel young, either. Just here, now. Damp hair drying, short fingernails typing away. Not thinking about too much.


  1. Merry 45, 2020!

    Wow. Newly minted 6s wolfing your 45-celebratory donuts. Something so right and so wrong about that. Three cheers to hubs for vacating the girls so you could shower. Showers are nice.

    Neither young NPR old. Yup. Midlife, all right.

    Happy day, dear one.

  2. I like this, and happy birthday retroactively. I’m 44 now, and hoping 45 will feel as you describe.

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