My birthday is coming. I like my birthday. A lot. Even as I edge closer to being ‘of a certain age’, I refuse to surrender the sanctity of my own personal holiday to the adult relics of ‘just another day’. Nope, I have birthday parties. With cupcakes. And friends. I celebrate a ‘Birthday Week’ in fact. I’d take the month if I could get away with it. I usually manage to accomplish somewhere around 10 days of birthday bliss. The places I want go, the foods I want to eat, the movies I want to see, and yes, even the things I want to buy, all a little easier to negotiate with The Husband and myself during my birthday vacation. I didn’t mention that? I take the week of my birthday off. Every year.
Why? Because the most important gifts are the ones I give myself. Read more