Avocados were a buck a piece when I went to the grocery store on Friday. I don’t know what that dude was talking about a few weeks about millenials not being able to buy houses because of avocado toast. Does he know how much avocados cost? How much houses cost? Where does he think these millenials are buying their avocados or their toast? And do any of them know you can turn avocados into guacamole?
Four of my last six meals have included guacamole. One of them was 100% guacamole. I’m roughly 86% guacamole now. Also, I am 45 years old.
Sister #2 has taken to pointing out how very, very old I am. This realization dawned on her when I pointed out on her 22nd Anniversary in April that she and Ben had been married half my life.
I did absolutely zero things to celebrate my birthday yesterday. This came as a great disappointment to a lot of people I know, and might even seem super sad and depressing to some. I know it kind of bummed my mom out.
“Oh,” she said on the phone. “You’re really not doing anything?”
“Nah,” I said. “It’s a random Tuesday. I’m going to eat a salad and watch Twin Peaks.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“At least you like that show.”
I really didn’t want to do anything. A few times during the day I got a little pouty about the lack of celebration and had to remind myself that I could have done a lot of things with people who would have been happy to spend time with me on my birthday and I chose not to.
For a majority of my life I’ve made a big fucking deal out of my birthday. I’ve had very many great, great birthdays that were a lot of work. I didn’t feel like doing that this year. Despite what some might think, it wasn’t a sly move to get someone else to do something for my birthday in an attempt to show how much I’m cared for. I know people never do that shit. I just really didn’t care about it this year.
I’ve been writing this post for two days now. I started it yesterday morning or maybe it was afternoon, for sure before the buzz of the free birthday Caribou had worn off. I got distracted by something. . . work? An email? Someone wishing me a happy birthday on Facebook even though I hid my birthday on Facebook? Who knows?
The distraction spun and spun around me and then it was right now, nearly 4 p.m. on the day after my birthday. I’m still 45. I’m kinda glad my birthday is over for another year. I really wish I could focus on any one task for long enough to complete it. I’m not sure where this squirrel brain is coming from. Is ADD a side-effect of reaching middle-age?
I don’t know. I’m just gonna post this bitch so it can be done with and tomorrow I’m gonna write about living without cats and what that’s like. Or I’ll write about “If We Were Vampires.” Or maybe something exciting will happen.