the first day of the rest of my life. again.

yesterday was my birthday. another year older.
i am 47 years old.

lemme say it again, in case you missed it. f-o-r-t-y-s-e-v-e-n.

gaaaah.

again, if i had known i was gonna live this long, i'd taken better care of myself.
but i didn't, so i might as well start now right?? right???

oh well.

47.

i realize it's not that old in the scheme of things and most days, i don't feel that old. some days, however, i feel much, MUCH older.

like now.

you see, not only did i have a birthday yesterday, i had the distinct honor of being sick -on.my.birthday.

actually, all week. the Husband has had typhoid/yellow fever/creeping crud for almost a week, and i was feeling pretty dang proud of myself that i had avoided it. that was until Wednesday morning came and i was calling the police, trying to report a hit & run on my bum.

and i proceeded to sleep the majority of the time. Wednesday, Thursday and yesterday. well, scratch that...not last night so much.

like a dumbass, i over medicated myself with cough medicine and Mucenix and could NOT get to sleep until about 2:30 this morning...whereupon i immediately woke up at 6:30 with the cheerful May Gray streaming in my face.

stupid sun. there ought to be a law.

and there ought to be a law against being sick on your birthday.

it s-u-u-u-u-u-cks.

did it effect my appetite? unfortunately not, except for the fact that the Husband's tummy did not like him, so therefore i had no appetite.

oh well. soup and grilled cheese is still good.

47. three years away from 50. eight years away from AARP membership.

and i'm still standing. over medicated, but standing.