Birthdays are birthdays… they are the most convenient way to mark the passage of time in one’s life, and frankly their only real significance is to alert your doctor to the opportunity to commence inflicting more thorough and uncomfortably invasive exams upon your person.
My 40th birthday has come and gone, and the inevitable question was asked numerous times: “So, how does it feel to be 40?” About the same as it did when I woke up yesterday when I was still 39 — I could use more sleep, less work, a strong cup of coffee, and a couple of undisturbed hours in a hammock or a comfortable chair reading without distraction… but then again, I’ve felt that way most of my life anyway, so this is nothing new.
At any rate, to me birthdays are birthdays, just another day with a bit of personal significance but no need for anyone to make a fuss over. I don’t demand a big party, lots of gifts or overt amounts of attention… which does not mean I won’t happily — gleefully even — accept any of that, hell, who doesn’t like gifts and a fun party? The most I would ever ask for myself is a decent meal and the company of good friends in a low-key, comfortable environment, which is pretty much the same thing I’d ask of any given weekend anyway.
We went to Peony, a nice Asian restaurant that serves Japanese and Chinese cuisines, and I loaded up on sushi. I hadn’t had sushi in a long while, and had been in the mood for it for quite some time. T’was yummy, and priced well too. Apparently some of the selections from the Chinese menu were tasty as well.
Afterward we went back to Sweets and my place to light the fire-pit, have some drinks and enjoy a cigar. I finally opened the bottle of Scotch I was gifted for the housewarming over a year ago, and it was definitely worth the wait.
All told, it was precisely the evening I had hoped for.