Tomorrow is my birthday. Last year, that was a statement of joy. Today, it is one of dread.
I know, I know, some of you will read this and say, "Hey 38 isn't that bad, dude." Some of you are even older and feel no sympathy for me whatsoever. That's ok.
The strange thing is that a birthday has never bothered me so much as this one. I have never been more depressed than I am this Christmas season, and I don't know why. The fact that Christmas music is playing and it is 74 degrees outside only heightens the doom and gloom for me.
I am going to try and put on a happy face for tomorrow. My kids are excited about my birthday, and I'm pretty sure my wife is. I am ready for the anticipation to pass and for the big day just be over and done.
On the other hand, I am thankful for 38 years. That is more than many of our Nation's Finest will ever have, and surely more than I deserve. I remember when my Dad turned 38. I didn't think he was old at all, and I sure don't feel old. I am a bit miffed that my Dad was more handsome and had no gray hair at 38, but I'll get over it. I am thankful that I still have a full head of hair. I could lose about 30 pounds, but other than that, I feel pretty good.
I apologize to my regular readers who usually come here to see what witty and sarcastic observations I will offer. The Church Signs have been a big hit. I'm glad. I just have a lot on my mind this holiday season, and the holidays themselves are barely on my mind at all. Thanksgiving was a nightmare, and I don't even want to think about Christmas.
Maybe we can enjoy some witty birthday observations tomorrow.