And so, now it is my turn.
I wrote a whole post last night about whether or not I could make this year as important as it has become in my head. Except I was a couple of glasses of wine in, and I felt - in retrospect this morning - that it was a little bit too dramatic and whiny. (And I wonder where Wonderboy gets it!)
The reason I feel this way about this year is that this is the age my Mom was when she died. Forty never happened for her. I know mentally, that I am perhaps putting too much pressure on myself to make it all happen This Year. But I can't keep hanging around waiting for some epiphany to motivate me. If this is what is going to spurn me into some kind of action, then so be it. There are things that I want to do, things that I want to get accomplished. A year from now I want to be able to look back and say, "Here I am, Mom. Further then you ever got to be. But look, look at what I have done. Know that it was inspired by you."
And so, with that good stuff in mind, I'm off to have cake for breakfast. Because really, what better way is there to start your birthday?
