Do you ever go to write something and then go read your archives and find a post you already wrote that is pretty much identical to what you were going to write?
And you are both elated (hello link love, let’s just save mamma some typing!) and deflated (I was way funnier two years ago)?
And then you realize you just called yourself ‘mamma’ and you wonder what it says about you when you admit to yourself that you like it?
Saturday is the *birthday. TWENTY EIGHT. I’m sure I’m supposed to be feeling all sorts of things about this milestone. Maybe I’m supposed to be freaking out because it sounds old or maybe I’m supposed to be reflective on years past, or maybe I’m supposed to be excited at what this year brings. I don’t have time for any of that. I’m excited for today and tomorrow and the day after- days where I will celebrate my birthday with good friends, cheap tequila and and an unwavering belief that Josh Lyman and I will be together one day.
I was going to write out a new birthday wish list, but this one from a few years ago is still pretty spot on. I can’t wait to see who gets me the diamond encrusted toothbrush.
Have an excellent Friday everyone! I know I’ve been lame with both commenting/posting- let’s blame the new job and the fact that my spare moments have been dedicated to re-learning grade four math. Oh! And how to classify rocks for grade three science. I wish I was kidding.
(*See what I did there? Talked about my birthday in two posts so people will say ‘happy birthday!’ twice? Yeah, just call my birthday a cow because I know how to MILK IT. )