So today is my birthday. I haven't been in much of a mood for celebrating lately, but things aren't so bad really. Not really.
I got woken up by Mrs Custard with coffee, vegemite on toast and a faceful of licks from two excited dogs. I got a ticket to see Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in three weeks. If I hear There She Goes My Beautiful World it might be the best birthday present ever. That or my new solid metal jaffle iron, primed and ready for it's first campfire cheese toastie. That mother is going to be volcano hot inside when it's done.
I got a big old birthday hug from my Grandma. I don't remember the last time I saw my Grandma on my actual birthday. Maybe 20 years ago at a surprise party when I turned 18. She wrote in her card that she enjoyed being able to share her birthday with me last week, but she was even happier to be here to share in my birthday today. I love my Grandma.
Even Metro Trains' daily train-cancelling-rerouting-we-hate-you-commuters fuck up couldn't spoil this morning. I just sat there and felt the little buzzes of my phone as friends and family got in touch to wish me a nice day. I replied to each and every one of them. I didn't really tell anyone about today, but people still knew. I even got my first Facebook birthday greeting. 5 years ago I would have moaned on about the lack of sincerity of such an act; today I am grateful. Genuinely grateful for good friends and a caring family.
Outside of work the Big Issue seller was going nuts with his sales pitch, serving a hyped up and unlikely weather report predicting hurricaines and blizzards. As I bought a copy he enthused about a picture of a spritely looking Dustin Hoffman on the cover. "Looks good for 75 doesn't he?" I looked at the actor's squishy face, and his hand raised with thumb and index finger circled into an 'okay.' "He looks happy" I replied.
I'm not sure if I look happy; I'm sorry if I don't. But I can't say I don't have reasons to be. Not today and probably not ever. So I'll report that today, I'm happy. Hope you're happy too.
