Now THAT is a birthday candle. Why spend an hour lighting forty-four individual wax sticks when you can just set a piece of cheese on fire for twice the lumens and three times the wow factor?
It’s that time of year again! As of today I’m now 44 years old, not dead yet, and still not entering true Midlife Crisis mode with a fancy sports car or a mistress my son’s age. I’m fine with skipping that phase if everyone else is cool with it.
Most of my birthday was frittered away at work, serving others and digging into spreadsheets and doubling my caffeine intake so I could stay awake enough to get to the good parts of the day, while keeping myself too busy to ponder mortality or dwell on the never-ending internal debate over whether I’m truly applying myself toward fulfilling my life’s true purpose(s) here on this imperfect ball of dirt, dust, and Drumpf.
I continued tabling that potential pontification after work and went out to dinner at a promising restaurant that recently opened on our side of Indianapolis. Whenever a nice restaurant opens within five miles of our house, that’s reason enough for us to celebrate, birthday or no birthday.
Midlife Crisis Crossover! 