Ever get the sensation the time is passing you by much more quickly than previously authorized by you: The boss, queen, captain, lord, and master of your particular domain?
I've been doing stuff, and stuff, but mostly I am completely enslaved to: My kids, their lives and commitments and schedules; then there's Tim, and his life and commitments and schedule, and lately the same could even be said of the cats, and then of course mine own self; my job and commitments and such. Oh, you're still stuck on that part back there about how I'm a slave to the lives of THE CATS? Sad, I know: It's something I never thought I'd find myself saying, like, "hey, oh, me? Well I'm spending a great deal of time making sure my cats get to their veterinary appointments, and giving the one her medicine, and making sure to keep her contained, and OY the trouble with that abscessed anonymous-animal bite, would you believe that anonymous-animal gave her the Feline Leukemia? But it isn't even Leukemia at all, but rather that's a misnomer, and..."
Sad. So sad. At my girl Mandy's birthday party way the hell over yonder in Prosperity, SC, I found myself making polite dinner conversation with a friend-of-a-friend (who I'm pretty sure wanted to be way more than friend-of-a-friend with Tracy's rad hotness; we blame the $20 beer), and I had so much to say: About my kids and my cats. At least Tracy was there with us, and whenever Tracy is present, fun is had. Ave Maria Her Holy Hilariousness was there too, but way down at the other end of the table, so all I could really do was send her two texts from six feet away (which may or may not have had anything to do with ampalamps).
Speaking of birthdays, as of the last posting, you may recall, I was busy surviving my 36th birthday. As it turns out, my 36th birthday was the best birthday I've ever had (even beating out that trip to Vegas for my 21st (sorry mom), and that time I got my first tattoo) . It just so happens that my birthday was awesometastical - even though at the outset I did not believe it would be so: First, the Snowpocalypse. Our decennial snowfall with accumulation ("SnOMG, it's sticking!") happened to occur during the afternoon of my actual birthday, nearly ruining the carefully planned surprise celebration. Second, I was sick as a something that is really super sick; had been (and would continue to be) for days. Let's just say getting through the evening required two Aleve, three Imodium, and a bargain with the Universe. Third: I was having a giant cow over The Getting Old.
As it turned out, none of that even mattered: Tim and Aaron wore shirts with actual collars (and jackets, even!), T-dawg sucked it up into Spanx, and I wore a dress. We went to Hennessy's; I had a great meal (I spoon-tapped that crème brûlée for ages before finally eating it), great company, and utterly astonishing birthday presents. Three weeks later, I'm still completely gobsmacked over the presents I received during dinner and then the eventual party.
Aaron even chauffeured, and when we returned home he drove the car into the church lot and we did a few hilarious doughnuts in the snow.
Birthday Awesome: 1,000,000