I told you I'm no good

Birthday week is officially over. I watched the clock turn to midnight last night then promptly fell asleep. So yesterday I woke up and decided to just relax all day. The weather was perfect for it: rainy and chilly and I had no real plans other than grocery shopping. So I ended up looking through photo albums. I figure it’s been awhile since I have posted embarrassing pictures of myself and my awful choice in haircuts and clothing. However, I noticed something else the further I went down memory lane.

I hardly have any pictures where I’m not smiling or making a silly face. Even when I’m wearing flannels or mom jeans or sporting mullets, I’m generally having a good time. I have photo album after photo album of pictures and there is hardly a one where someone has caught me in a foul mood. That made me smile.

Because I don’t know about you, but birthdays kinda remind me that I’m mortal. That I’m on a path towards certain death, and while that doesn’t necessarily frighten me or make me sad, it does make me do a check to make sure the path I’ve already taken was at least enjoyable should my time be up today.

And apparently I have photographic evidence that it has been. And that makes for a very happy birthday indeed.

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