Next Friday is my birthday. Being born one week before Christmas has always been kind of weird because my birthday got folded into “the holidays.” Years ago, I decided that it was basically a non-event. The running joke at my house occurs on June 18, when I announce my half-birthday and take myself out to lunch.
I’m not trying to be melodramatic with this revelation, because, truthfully, the older I get, the less commotion about my birthday the better. But this year, I am actually excited about its arrival because I believe I am giving myself one of the best gifts I could ever get. Nobody else can duplicate it, and it is priceless.
I am giving myself better health by losing almost 15 pounds since my last birthday. I won’t know my exact weight loss until next Tuesday’s weigh-in, but I’m confident that I’m in the neighborhood of another gold star.
My birthday is elevated to “an event” this year, and I’m proud to declare I will be 58.
Talk to you soon.
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