It’s said that as you get older birthdays become less important, and I think there’s something to that.
I realised the other day that I’d missed this blog’s birthday. It was on June 10th. For the first half of the year I’d been introducing myself as having been blogging for “nearly seven years”. Now I can say “a little over seven years”.
It’s quite pleasing to forget a birthday, I feel. People concern themselves with such things too much. To forget one implies you’re doing more interesting things and one of them isn’t marking the calendar for pointless anniversaries.
(September 19th, if you’re wondering. I believe it’ll be number 35.)
Gawd, was it really 35 years ago!
Yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought… or was convincing myself, until no.37 hit. I woke up thinking I’d made some stupid-ass mistake with the subtracting of dates.. “naahh I’ve done it again, mispaced a 10 somewhere..” and then I literally swooned, realising I was a few hearbeats off 40. I’m still pulling girls on the nightclu floor and if I don’t watch out, its gonna become a sad scene to watch someday!