Today is S’ birthday (as well as this blog’s birthday) and for the next year he has a pleasing palindromic age. When I pointed this out to him, however, his response was that it didn’t really classify as palindromic as it was only two digits. Well, if he’s waiting to hit 101 or 111…
It also means that until June there are five years between us, the fact of which I will be rubbing in mercilessly until I hit 29 and the inevitable “only one more year until I’m 30, oh god, where is my life going?” jag will kick in.
Luckily there are no pulled back muscles like last year but, continuing the trend of Getting Ill On Important Dates, I do have a virus which has made me feel like rubbish over the last few days. It got worse yesterday and I spent the morning in bed, popping ibuprofen, cursing the fact that getting sick on a freelance day means I don’t get paid, and trying to read some more of the sixth tale in Cloud Atlas (which is such a brilliant book) before giving up on the complicated language and falling back asleep. I was woken at 11am by the delivery of our new wardrobe and chest of drawers, by which time the painkillers had worked their magic and I felt a lot better. Thank goodness for drugs! I was determined to be better for today; even though we’re not celebrating properly until the weekend (with a mystery (for him) meal out and tickets for a comedy gig) I’m still planning to cook a really nice dinner tonight and give him his gifts: this book, a brilliant t-shirt he spotted in Stokes Croft the other week and a print. And after last year’s poor show – falling asleep at 8pm – my aim is to make it to at least the end of Grand Designs.
I really do have an amazing husband; he is letting me take yet another holiday by myself this month – a girlie three day trip to Paris with lovely bridesmaid B and Canadian friend Steph. After disappearing off without him last year to numerous countries I really wasn’t trying to plan any more solo holidays (for a while, anyway), but the way this Paris visit has worked out means that it’s just not practical for him to come too. I’ve promised to bring back some pain au chocolat though – do you think that’s enough to make it up to him?