Yes, it’s true. My 78th birthday is in seven weeks.
And if ever there was a birthday to be ambivalent about, this is it.
The bad news about this coming birthday – and more than a few previous ones – is that I can be sure to wake up feeling battered and bruised and stiffened and weakened and with absolutely no idea of the cause.
The good news about it is, of course, that I will in fact be waking up. Ain’t nothing going to stop me from that…and because I’ve become used to the mystery tribulations being piled upon me, I’ll awaken eager and hopeful and excited as hell about the newest day.
Why am I thinking about a December birthday in the last half of October? That’s on my wife, G the B. When I woke up this morning Gwen greeted me with her usual love and rockets, followed by something not so usual.
An early birthday gift. Which she encouraged me to open now.
Which I did. As you saw at the top of this post.
Yes, it’s my very own brand-spanking-new vacuum cleaner!
The good news about it is that I didn’t have to put together all those pieces I’m puzzling over in the pic. My beloved did that for me.
The bad news is that as soon as I finish typing this I’m going to use the damn thing.
The best news is that I’m eager and hopeful and excited as hell about vacuuming my heart, soul, and back out.
Wait for it —
More love and rockets will soon follow.
(Does this post fit the definition of TMI? Asking, of course, for a friend.