I was feeling sorry for myself today, not through any misfortune I should add, but because it was my birthday. I have to admit the excitement of getting up at the crack of dawn to open presents simply isn't there anymore. Come to think of it the pile of presents seems to be getting smaller each year as well. Gone are the days when I'd go to bed the night before just hoping that I would get the "action man or the cowboy outfit" I'd asked for. Those were the days before parents had a money tree in the garden and kids needed to be taught that asking for something and actually getting it were two different things. Instead of any excitement, I'm now faced with the annual reminder that I'm yet another year older and the sand in the egg timer is running out.
Anyway: Despite the doom and gloom on the 23rd, I'm usually a happy soul, and I'm sure by this time tomorrow normal service will have resumed.