Today was my birthday. I’m now 43-years-old.
On the happy side: I had a birthday lunch yesterday with my mom, sister and Ikuni. Very nice. And I saw a production of Private Eyes last night. Marvelous. I also received a necklace I love, an adorable set of salt and pepper shakers (rotund ceramic men who match the Guy Buffet print in my kitchen) and $50 which will more than likely be used to buy a book on CD. I have a lot to be thankful for: I have four great kids and a supportive circle of family and friends.
On the not-so-happy side: I’m also feeling down. Not just because my body is aging and steadily moving toward its ultimate end, but also because of the financial mess I’m in at this stage of my life.
As most of you know, I’m divorced, in debt, and two decades behind in my career path, having re-entered the workforce after twenty years of being a mom at home. Financially, everything pretty much hinges on the selling of our house, and it’s not selling. We can only drop the price so much, because if we don’t get enough out of it to put toward the debt then it’s not worth the trouble.
In a number of ways, I’ve had my life on hold, waiting for us to move. One example, putting off finishing my degree. But, maybe I should go ahead and look into it. My birthday has reminded me that I only have so much time left.