The Tallying Of Years

So I had a birthday this week. I know you are surprised! Here I had a birthday, and I never even said a word! How can I be so cruel--depriving you of your opportunity to make a fuss over me? Well, THAT just better never happen again.

Anyway, I had a birthday, and you know what? Mr. Sweetie earned his name that day. Actually, his new name had better be Mr. Totally Awesome And Generous To A Fault To The Spoiled Inner Child That Is His Wife And Oh My God He Totally Gave Me The Best Birthday Presents AND Cooked Dinner AND Cleaned It Up And Now I Really Am Embarrassed At All My Whinging.
But that is too long to type, so Mr. Sweetie it is!

Now, lest you think that I have put this off too long, since my actual birthday was on Sunday, I will say in my defense that I typed up a long paean to Mr. Sweetie and his awesomeness, but Blogger was being a poop and refused to let me post or even save it in draft. Which is just as well, since I said a lot of nice things but they were all so damn soppy that you would find yourself reaching for a pencil to stab yourself in the eyeball to avoid the pain of all the soppiness.

And anyway, the last time I looked at the name of this blog, I was the MISTRESS OF ALL EVIL--oh look, it still says that right up at the top--and HOW DARE YOU CRITICIZE ME?!?! I shall put a curse upon you, and all your silver will tarnish and your dentist will discover that all your fillings were done wrong the first time and they all have to come out and be replaced with new ones. AND the parking attendant will leave their post to go pee, and you will be stuck behind the lowered bar for fifteen minutes until they return, and so you will be late getting home and your family will yell at you. SO THERE.

Perhaps I will fill you in on the Premo Loot I scored for my birthday, and if I feel like it, I may even post some pictures. Rest assured that mimosas were drunk, ridiculously delicious food was consumed, and much love and attention was showered upon me. Which is as it should be, and is only my proper due.

So, on the occasion of my birthday, I was asked what I wanted to do this year, so that at my next birthday, I could look back and note my accomplishments with satisfaction. I realized that I have three:

1. I want the seven years back that I lost to depression. So, N.B. to my siblings, I am now officially 38, and am now the YOUNGEST child in the family.
2. I want to finish up the damn novel already. I've had hit kicking around for far too long now, and I need to either finish it or put it out of its misery.
   
3. I hereby pledge that by my next birthday, I will actually weigh what it says I weigh on my drivers license. Or less.

There--that's not asking too much of myself, is it?