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I still don't know what freaking day it is...

I know I’m not alone when I say that I can’t keep track of what day it is.


What’s worse is that I’m still working full time-- my regular work schedule even. And, as far as I can tell, the days still happen in the same order as always. Yet, I’m still lost in time somehow.


Even worse? It’s my sister’s birthday. Which means that it’s my birthday.


No-- we’re not twins. I was the 5th birthday present that she never asked for. Legend has it that’s the reason I was named after the youngest of The Brady Bunch. My sister and I sometimes joke that Mom’s uterus did tricks. They weren’t great jokes, but sometimes that’s what sisters do.


Sometime between childhood and my current stage of life, birthdays lost their excitement and luster. They were still fairly fun as a young adult, but eventually, they got to be just sort of… meh. Considering I don’t even know what day (or even month) it is, this year is really underwhelming.


It doesn’t necessarily help that Nolan has never been a kid to let us know that he was excited about his own birthday, either. We try to do something special every year, but it’s hard to know if he makes the connection between the special fun things we do and the birthday. I hope he does, but I also understand that it’s kind of an abstract idea.


Fortunately aging hasn’t ever really bothered me. I’m a pretty low-maintenance girl as far as the beauty routine goes. Maybe that’s because I graduated high school at the height of grunge rock. Or maybe it’s because I’ve always valued that extra 20 minutes of morning sleep more than I value perfect hair or eyeliner. So I'm not exactly concerned about the "signs of aging" that advertisers have tried to warn me about.


At this point in my life, I don’t even color my hair. I feel like I’ve earned every gray hair on my head. And honestly I’m surprised my hair isn’t already mostly gray.


I will miss being 42, though. But that’s purely because I’m an enormous dork. Why? Because it’s my only chance to be the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. (If that doesn’t make sense to you, I highly recommend reading “The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy” by Douglas Adams.) If I’m not 42 anymore, I guess that means now I just get to figure out what the question is.


If nothing else, though, at least it marks the passage of time. Maybe by the time Kirk’s birthday hits at the end of the month, I’ll at least be able to keep track of what month it is. I’m not going to hold my breath, though...

Last year's birthday shirt

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