I'm 33. Happy Birthday to me.
I woke up this morning to the urgent whine of my dog who wanted out. At 4am. Gotta love her and her tiny bladder. On the way to kennel she rolled in something smelly that I didn't discover until later when she rolled it on the carpet. I ran a few miles. Jiggled areas of my body that I didn't know could jiggle, went to lunch, did laundry and folded a few loads I didn't get to last week. I feel like someone took me for a joy ride tied to the back of a bus.
Basically, it is a typical day.
So...33. On this momentous occasion, I commemorated with a photo. It sums up a lot:
I'm sure I'll perk up for my 34th year.