Yesterday I received a few early birthday cards and wishes in the mail, and was a bit shocked to see the number that was spelled out in one of the cards. I’m officially in my late thirties now, which is equally as strange and unfamiliar as seeing the number 38. Not sure how this happened, but I’m pretty sure I’m not channeling any Dorian Gray genes given the recent spate of aches, pains and odd injuries. As N will no doubt remind me, this birthday is more likely to be the “80 minus 42nd” one for me.
But it’ll be one with lots of champagne. And dark chocolate.