It's today.
The last day of the year.
I know it's only November, but today is the last day in the calendar year tracking the days of my life.
Today that life is 30 years and 364 days long.
And I've been cranky. Only sligthly, but cranky.
More sensitive, irrationally sore over complaints that a small dinner party is too dull.
When it was small and cozy I wanted.
It tends to be like this, I think. Not sure, but think
that the day before
has always been ambivalent
uncertain
and the day itself more jubilant. Regardless of the scale of the celebration.
Taking stock. Grumbling.
Hurrah hurrah, my darling, you'll be 31 tomorrow!
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