So I thought I'd write something profound for my 50th birthday, something about the great experiences I've had, the lessons I've learned, the wisdom I've accumulated. But I woke up feeling basically as clueless as when I went to bed last night, with no great wisdom to impart, so I guess achieving half a century doesn't really change much. I'm your average plump, graying 50-year-old, who still feels 14 inside.
I spent the morning unburdening myself of paper (i.e. cleaning out my filing cabinet), then took myself for cajun chicken and buttermilk biscuits (I did warn you yesterday). Then I walked to Valu Village and tripled my wardrobe -- four pairs of pants, three shirts, and a skirt -- for $66. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. And then the cashier asked me if I wanted the Seniors' discount. Yep. How's that for a kick in the chops? Today of all days, you have to ask me that? Luckily my first response was to laugh out loud, which tells me I think I'm okay with this aging thing after all.
Trundled home again, threw out old clothes which were too threadbare to even recycle (I have a rule about tossing old things if I buy new ones), and fell asleep for a while on the couch reading a book. I'll spend this evening quilting and watching an old movie and accomplishing nothing much else. So it's a perfect day. No cubicle, no boss, no deadlines, no commute. Just a rainy afternoon and my puppies curled warmly beside me on the couch. Lovely.