Yep, it’s official….
Thirty-three.
I hate when I’m an odd number. The OCD in me freaks out. For an entire year, I will be an odd number.
I have a love/hate relationship with my Birthday. If you ask my mom, she will tell you that I cry every year. It’s predictable and routine. I guess I have reached that age where there are no more surprises.
My mom usually buys my gifts when we are shopping or out and about. I’ve tried giving her lists, they are never followed..
I like clothes, but gee, I would rather have a watch, or that Tiffany necklace that no one asked me about.
I have the day off work, but I’m volunteering with the Junior League. There will be food and alcohol….
