Dear 37: Why is it that 36 has felt so good (which is totally messed up considering the crap I've been through this year) and 37 feels like it might be a death sentence?
Dear Weird Ages that I Feel Weird About: Why? I'm not sure what else to say. 24: there was a lot of turmoil in life at that time. That one makes sense. 33: Why? Why did I have nightmares (mind you, I rarely ever remember my dreams, but had this one repeatedly) that involved fuzzy red numbers from Sesame Street, complete with fangs, chasing and attacking me??
|I know you see the resemblance!|
Dear August 10: Two months. Only two more months. Ugh. Even worse...I was thinking 10/10 was still three months out. Double Ugh.
Dear 37 (yes, again): We need to be friends, like good friends. Great friends. It's going to be a great year, full of super goodness. So stop trying to put your funk on me and get with the program.
Dear 40: Jamie is already planning your party. Wow. Not sure how I feel about that. But she said that The Brian Odell Band will be there. In that case, I'm already OK with 40. (See! Weird about random ages!)
Dear Spain: Even though I won't be in you for my birthday, you are my present to self, and I cannot WAIT to meet you!
|My new desktop image, via.|
Have an awesome day!