Today, on my 33rd birthday, I have been married for nine years to my best friend.  Today is the only day that we are both 33 and then tomorrow, he turns 34.  Happy birthiversary to us!

True fact: I actually thought I was 31 all year and was rudely awakened at my last melanoma check when I saw my age printed on my chart.  I even tried to correct the nurse and then had to retract my correction shamefacedly when I realized I had somehow spent the last ten or so months believing I was 31.  I guess I must have lost a year in there somewhere.

I got to sleep in before being bombarded by homemade cards and then had a lovely first breakfast of tea and salt water taffy (birthday present).  Next up, a delicious second breakfast of quiche and a Charlie Brown latte (chocolate and toffee), followed by a pedicure, followed by a chiropractic adjustment, followed by a few minutes of soft tissue massage, followed by a superb lunch of homemade black bean burgers (key ingredient: chipotle mayo).  I also had many heartwarming Facebook messages pinging me all day long.  It has been a wonderful birthday and it’s not even over yet.

I’m told that there is some cake awaiting me in the not-too-distant future too.  If you’re reading these words, have some cake for me today.

Really, I insist.