Given how much I love Christmas, it probably comes as no surprise that I also love birthdays. I love spoiling my family and friends on their special day, and I approach the preparations for the ‘Festival of [friend/family member]’ with gusto – flowers, birthday banners, a surprise morning tea/lunch, filling their office/cubicle with balloons, cake and candles, cocktails…
I don’t share quite the same enthusiasm for my own birthday, however, but they continue to roll around (as they do), and last week it was my turn to celebrate a birthday.
A couple of the girls at work decorated my office, arranged a surprise morning tea (with cake!), a surprise lunch at one of my favourite restaurants with some of my favourite people, and a gorgeous card. They also arranged for a gift card to be delivered to my hotel room when we were in Sydney a couple of weeks ago, with the instructions that I was to indulge in cocktails (at Grain bar – in the lead up to my trip, I’d mentioned that I couldn’t wait to try the new bar at the Four Seasons). I received a lovely tea set from my two bosses – a lovely surprise as I’d been on the hunt for a tea set for a little while (which they didn’t know), but hadn’t managed to find one I liked – it is beautiful and exactly my style.
I received some very lovely cards, text messages and Facebook/Twitter/Instagram well wishes, as well as some gorgeous flowers as the day went on. I have such amazing people in my life, and I feel so blessed. My grandfather is very sweet – he’s really looking forward to the wedding in November, and tells me every chance he gets…
Niece Posy excitedly sang me Happy Birthday – over the phone in the morning, and then at dinner in the evening, where she and Nephew Posy helped me blow out my birthday candles (more cake!). I owe my sister-in-law a new cake server… I somehow broke hers while I was cutting my cake, oops!
On Saturday night, Mr Posy is taking me out for dinner (we were supposed to go to dinner last Saturday, but I was unwell so had an early night). It will be my fourth birthday dinner (seriously, four dinners: Mum/brother/Mr Posy, in-laws/Mr Posy, Dad/brother/Mr Posy) – ‘spoilt’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Back in November, I had a slight breakdown when, for a moment, I forgot how old I was. I must have had a minor brain explosion, because for a minute or so there, I thought I was turning 27. You can possibly imagine the panic I experienced when I realised I was actually turning twenty-eight. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with growing older, but I think my brain had a rough time processing this particular number, because I’ve not forgotten my age like this before. I had to remind myself a few more times in the weeks leading up to my birthday that I was turning 28, 28, 28… I think I’ve come to terms with it now, despite not much liking the even number (I love odd numbers).
Twenty-seven was a good year for me, but I’m sure twenty-eight will be even better.
The celebrations have been lovely, but I am thoroughly exhausted from the Festival of Miss Posy.