Is it just me, or as we get older, do we start to care less and less about those special days that come but once a year?
In exactly one week I will turn 25, which my family has kindly noted is officially quarter-life. Gee, swell. Thanks to the peanut gallery on the calendar of my life.
I also noted how little I truly care.
That’s me, not caring.
Isn’t it so sad the days of counting down to the old birthday are now behind us? And you can forget about balloons, as fun as you still think they are.
Luckily, for me, my mom does still care. They planned a week at their beach house around my blessed day of birth, and I will joining them for a relaxing week at the shore.
After Sunday, I will need it.
Being a Philly girl in the New York land is hard – people will stop you when you’re wearing Philly memorabilia on a Tuesday in off-season. So, with two rivalry games this Sunday (Eagles play the NY Giants, but more importantly, the Phillies play the Yankees in the World Series) a little R and R will practically be mandated.
Consider this my “see you when I’m 25 and tan” post. I won’t be giving you my weekly KBisms, to which 90 percent of you can be grateful. Enjoy my vacation, gang.
Do you enjoy your birthday still?