Happy Birthday to Me

Today I am 62. This is the age my father was when he retired. He basically sat around the house and drank endless cups of coffee while playing solitaire. I’ve followed his lead in many things (no one is more surprised about that than I am) but not here. For one thing, it is impossible for me to think of myself as “retired” (see any number of my previous posts).

I have, however, put my feet up today. I’ve spent a lot of time with friends, I took a lovely nap, and I haven’t crossed one damn thing off the “to do” list. This evening I’ll rehearse with the a cappella group I belong to, but now I find myself so paralyzed with sloth that I can’t even write a decent length blog post…

2 Replies to “Happy Birthday to Me”


    And sloth is a wonderful gift to give yourself for your birthday. I learned to slow down this week by breaking my toe. ;^)

  2. Ouch, Donna! I broke my big toe (can’t remember which foot) in the fall of 1968. You wouldn’t think something as small as a toe could contain enough nerves to hurt as much as it did.

    Hmmmmm, I believe there’s a post in that toe story. So, sorry about your toe, but thanks for the idea!

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