A few quick thoughts on the occasion of my birthday

Far less of everything--summer, Christmas, new music, hot movies--awaits me than is behind me.  That is a sobering and difficult proposition to accept.

I continue to feel 16 inside.  I am as churned up as I have ever been.

That said, I feel I have gained some measure of self-control and maybe even of wisdom.

I am not accomplishing enough.  I must pick up the pace.

I cannot fathom those who are bored by life.  I could live a hundred lifetimes and never be bored.  So much art and food and beauty and people and life to absorb and revel in, and never ever enough time.

Birthday numbness

Birthdays usually upset me.  They drag me down, remind me of all that I haven't accomplished, force me to stare at least for a moment in the direction of death, and generally make me miserable.  I try hard to enjoy them.  I usually treat myself to extra sleep, the day off work, and so on.  None of those treats work, but I keep trying them.

This year, I've felt nothing so far.  The combination of exhaustion from working to get ready to go on my sabbatical and general exhaustion have left me nearly numb to the occasion. 

Oddly enough, I hope I feel something, even the usual depression, soon.  I have to hope sleep and my sabbatical will help.

On the other hand, not having my birthday upset me so much is probably quite a treat for my friends. 

Oh, yeah:  today was my birthday. 

My birthday lunch

Yes, today is my birthday, a day on which the year count advances, today to a far larger number than I am comfortable with. This year, though, I gave myself the early gift of a completed novel, so how could I complain? (Easily, but I won't.)

For lunch today, a small group of us went to one of my favorite little diners in town. I had hoped they would have the fried bologna--they use the old-fashioned, thick style--on offer, but I was also tempted by their pimento cheese.

Then, it hit me: Why not embrace the greatness of both sandwiches? Fried bologna with pimento cheese melted on it would be awesome.

Never let it be said that American ingenuity is dead; from such creations springs the backbone (and the waistline) of our nation.

Sure enough, the fried bologna was a special item today, so here is my lunch.

Click on the image to see a larger version.

The macaroni salad is mine. The fruit is not.

Yeah, that's gonna hurt in the morning.

It was mighty damn tasty, though, you betcha.