I think I have pretty much decided not to have a birthday. It was a tough decision as I have tended in recent years to grin and bear the birthdays but 43 just seems so nothing that I can't get interested even in ironically celebrating it. However, I will permit myself the luxury of reflection, insofar as, I feel that at 43 I have many reasons to be relaxed and comfortable, even smug and smirky, with a Good Job I enjoy more than I have ever enjoyed any job, a valid, creative and delightful Life Partner, a solid and appreciating Home, Fine (even Rude?) Health, many interesting projects on the boil such as forthcoming conference, books to be written/otherwise facilitated, And So On. I pretty much got what I wanted and while we are strangely feeling the $ pinch more than ever at the moment, and I would not mind a new stove and some shelves in the living room, I strongly suspect these will be resolved with time, particularly if I do something about them.
Smugness over, it's back into whining and carping territory again.
Why do people always, etc etc