For once I almost forgot it was my birthday. The week prior to turning a quarter of a century, I was balancing two jobs, preparing for our Mozambique team meeting, involved with church, etc. I knew the day was coming; I just didn't have time to "enjoy" my final days as 24.
I've also come to a realization that I'm not a fan of my birthday. Maybe it's because of age. Or maybe I'm just realizing how silly of an idea that is. We invite people to spend the day with us, to spend money going out with us, to buy presents for us ... to celebrate the day of our birth. Pretty selfish right? I was almost tempted to not have a birthday dinner; a part of me just wanted to rest and do nothing.
But as many people reminded me, 25 is big deal. It is one of those monumental markers. So, despite my original plans, I had a dinner; I kept it simple, had some of my favorite people with me, and, of course, had some grub.
Despite how January started off crazy, I have a good feeling about this year. 25, get ready for this one!
(And yes, after two years of begging my hubs finally bought me a banjo.)
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