…though it’s a melancholy non-celebration. Thirty-six years feels like some odd, unremarkable halfway house…not exactly old, but not as young as I once was…not depressing, yet hardly the occasion for a loud, boisterous celebration.
Well, I don’t ever have loud, boisterous birthday celebrations, so it’s not as if I’m missing much. Therefore, this Victoria Day-Birthday combo will pass uneventfully. I’m sure excitement will eventually manifest itself…when the time is right.
