Friday is my birthday.
I will be 52. It's a strange age to be. I am not quite young and I am not quite old. I am somewhere in the middle.
Numerically I may be 52, but I still think of myself as much younger. Although the reality is my hair is graying and I have lines on my face. I see frown lines, laugh lines, worry lines all getting deeper. I look at older people on the subway and notice the lines and wrinkles on their face and think, one day that will be me.
Birthdays are depressing...
I think I will eat some cake.
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