Last January I had tiny aspirations of reviving my blog. I had told myself that I could write at least one post per month. I was even going to number them, and I started with 01. But that was the only post I wrote.

And now, a little over a year later, here I am on my birthday. I’m 47 today. It’s a Monday. I had to work. That’s how birthdays go when you’re older. The world doesn’t stop to help you celebrate with whimsy.

But the people around me do help me retain some whimsy by showing me love in the form of messages, and cards, and that makes my heart happy. I appreciate every single one of those reach-outs. It’s nice to be thought of. Remembered. I might not hear from you for a while, but when you remember my birthday, and how much I LOVE birthdays, it makes me feel seen. Remembered. Like I matter.

A lot has happened in the past year. We lost Yoshi less than a month ago, on December 27th. It was sudden. It was difficult. I am lost without him.

We have moved into a new house since the last post. We’re still renting, but this place is so much nicer, and we have a giant yard. I will miss sitting outside with Yoshi and Abigail this summer. The two of them loved being out there with me. It was my peaceful place this year. It made a huge difference in my mental state having this giant, quiet, bird-filled yard to enjoy every second I wasn’t at work (or asleep).

I am now one year closer to retirement, so I joked today. I’m not sure what I feel, if anything, about turning 47. I don’t feel old. Or young. I just feel like me.

I have no goals. No aspirations. I’m just content living day to day taking it all in. I know that probably seems really bland, but I’ve reached this weird okayness with things. How long that will stick around I don’t know. But for now, it’s just fine.

And now I am going to have some birthday cake, read a book, and then fall into bed before 8:30 p.m., because that is how I party, yo.