Let me try again.
If I were born on the fifth of January, my golden birthday would be the one where I turn five years old. Get it?
So this year is mine.
No plans yet, so you can stop waiting for invitations. I think Friday night the brother, the boyfriend, and possibly the best friend will be going to a hookah lounge. Saturday night we're going to see a rather caustic comedian live in a nearby college town. Sunday we aren't doing anything, just the way I like it.
Feel like I ought to be doing more, but I kind of always feel like that. Like I should be doing more. In my early child curriculum class this morning, I started talking about what I do, my job, my babysitting, my volunteering, on top of being a full time student. A room of full time mothers and part time students were mystified that I was doing so much. Mystified that I can hack it when they can't. Get used to it, I thought.