No more cakes.
My birthday came and went. I’m another year older, and have surely accumulated grey hair. I’m one step closer to my goal of looking like Sophie from Howl’s Moving Castle.
Since I have a job, my poor friend, the Wii Board, has been missing my company. I didn’t get to weigh-in and receive my birthday congrats like last year. My work day had been pretty exciting though, because some sneaky friends left a small balloon on my desk, alerting everyone in the vicinity (and here I thought it was going to be an uneventful day!). I ate enough sweets to lose my appetite for my birthday cake when I got home, just barely managing a sliver of it.
My birthday marks the beginning of summer here in good old Florida. And that means thunderstorms. I spent Friday evening in my beloved velvet chair, listening to the rain run down my window. A stack of books at my side. The lights from my tree-like IKEA lamp casting a gentle glow on the otherwise darkened room.
I savored the quiet. In mere moments, Misty would come running in with her chew toy, begging for a tug-of-war battle. The cake would emerge from the fridge, the birthday cards all on display on the kitchen table, and a wish burning underneath my tongue.
All of that happened. And I swore off dessert of any kind.
For at least a few hours.
Now that I’m a year older and wiser… well, I feel much the same, actually. But underneath it all, part of me knows that there are new doors to be opened. New opportunities. New friends. New experiences.
Isn’t that what birthdays are for? They mark the time Before and After, and the After always looks brighter when you’ve celebrated with the people you love.