Having a panic attack at the Paris Ballet and getting asked if they need to fetch the doctor but oh! No, I’ll manage. Running down the grand staircase, billowing skirt. Getting stares, stifling sobs. Misery!
I specifically made plans this year to be alone on my actual birthday. And it’s been so nice. The best in years, no tears! I got up early to walk around a wildflower garden, tried a new coffee shop. Read a lot. Thrifted. Sushi for dinner and a peach crepe for dessert. The only thing missing was that I never went and celebrated with my favorite paintings at the museum but I’ll have a belated party with them later. Happy birthday to me.
My toaster is having a bad week so she doesn’t have the energy to hold the lever down anymore. Which means I have to stand there pressing it down for three minutes making sure my toast doesn’t burn. I used to take that time for granted, now it’s being robbed of me by my broken toaster. Trying to give her grace.
