It's my birthday.

It's been a craptacular one so far. It's raining, my train was half an hour late this morning, and I got a bunch of legalistic runaround at work when I attempted to work through lunch rather than work late half an hour. So LEGALLY I have to take thirty minutes EVERY DAY. Yeah. Thanks. Guess I'm getting home late tonight.

In no particular order:


1. It always rains on my birthday. Why? The only time it has ever NOT rained on my birthday was last year, when I was in San Diego. Sigh.

Also, today I got an email announcing that the Old Globe Theatre in San Diego has an opening for a new Literary Manager, MY DREAM JOB. IN SAN DIEGO. RIGHT AFTER I LEAVE SAN DIEGO. To which my response was, in order: MOTHERFUCKER. And then: Really, God? On my birthday? Really?

2. Everyone seems to be an important number this year. I’m 35, my dad is 60, my brother is 30, my best friend is 40, and my husband is 42 (which we all know is the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything). I’m not sure how to feel about that. I texted a bit with Pockets yesterday, getting the dish from her brother’s 20th high school reunion. There was surprisingly little. I’m not sure how to feel about that, either.

3. But at least I’m not where I was when I celebrated my 30th. Physically AND metaphysically.

4. I’m going to New York this weekend to see my friends, and thank God for that. I’m maxed out on household matters right now. If I have to have another thought about bathtub stoppers or curtains or furniture or whether to leave the doors open or closed on the rooms we’re not using in order to maximize heating efficiency, I may scream. And I’ve been really irritable lately—the stress of simultaneously moving and starting a new job is not becoming. I could use a day away, even though there’s still so much to do.

5. Today didn't help that.

I want to fast-forward 36 hours or so, where I'm having dinner with good friends, having a few very strong drinks, and not thinking about work, commuting, the house, the weather, or any of the other 900 million things pissing me off right now.

Actually, I'll take fast-forwarding about 6 hours, when (hopefully) I'll be cuddling with my hubby. That'll work, too.