If I title my post The Last Birthday...Ever, do you know what I mean? I'm sure some of you women do. 29. That's me today. Today I turned the last age I will ever admit to.
The day was in some ways off to a great start, and in others, not so good. At 4:57 AM, I awoke with a sore throat, a stuffy nose, and a puppy intruding on my sleeping space. First of all, that is way too early. Times that start with a 4 should be off limits for waking up. The other things were just 'icing on the cake', shall we say? When the alarm went off at 5:25, I was welcomed to my 29th year by presents from Byron. He did very well. He gave me a yoga video that I had been wanting, a really cool book by one of my favorite fabric designers, Amy Butler, and this really cool print we had seen on Etsy.
I love it so much. (It can be found here if anyone is curious.) I can't wait to find a frame for it and find a wall to hang it on. I have the perfect place in mind.
At work, my coworker made two pans of brownies for me. Since I don't care too much for cake, this was so awesome. And the two pans left one for me and one for me to share. Kidding. Sort of.
And now a little Chinese take out and relaxing to end the night is just what makes the perfect birthday. I was hoping to go out to a nice restaurant, but since I'm feeling so crappy, we'll just save that for another day. And for anyone who read my recent post, birthdays don't count as shopping. I am a little sad to be hitting the big 2-9. Mostly because I just don't want to be 30. I want to be young forever. Too bad I didn't ask for the fountain of youth for my birthday this year!