By the time I post this, I’ll really be a quarter century old. Some people would call it a milestone. I would call calling it that celebrating a mediocre accomplishment. Everyone get’s older. You can’t really help it. Aging is not really that much of an achievement. (Aging gracefully, now that’s some hard work.)
Nevertheless, had I been in Amsterdam… Full-on celebrations would have commenced the very minute the clock hit midnight; because even though I traveled back in time… this really is the oldest I’ve ever been. And the fact that I clawed my way out of my mom’s uterus -with my fair blonde hair and insane levels of awesomeness already there-is something to be celebrated.
I think we should all be very grateful I am alive to correct your grammar, call you during meetings because I am having panic attacks, make condescending jokes about your life and annoy you with conversations dominated by me that never seem to go anywhere. What would you guys do without me? Honestly, I wonder sometimes.
So, whatever you do. Please raise your glass to me and my good health this night; grateful that I, the shining beacon of humanities last hope, was born 25 years ago and not some other random variation on my DNA. If you feel like dropping some hot tears of joy. Do so. Please, do not feel self conscious. Around the country -and dare I say; world- other people will be doing it as well.
I know that’s what I’ll be doing (wishing myself well… hopefully not the crying.)
Because this is the oldest I’ve ever been… And you never know what the future is going to bring, and how long it’s all going to last. So be grateful I am here, and in return I’ll be grateful you are here; alive and well. Smiling… (or crying… really, if you must.. do:) We’re all pretty fortunate people. And we cannot celebrate that often enough.
So, chin chin! Happy birthday to me!