I'm old. Well, not ancient, but I never imagined being fifty-three. It seems to have happened pretty fast, too. Just last week, I was thirty-seven. I still have all my marbles, or at least I think I do. I can't tell you what I had for lunch on Monday, but I can still recite the preamble to the US Constitution and intelligently discuss the collected works of T.S. Eliot. Priorities, you understand. There was a time in my life when my birthday was an event; now it's just another day. I had a lovely lunch with my friend, Ariela, today. I shared my chicken burrito with Aggie and we had fried ice cream for dessert. It was a nice, quiet day. The way all birthdays should be.
And I am thankful for another year.