I recently turned 38. Fine, it was YESTERDAY. Hari Polis. I took a half day off in the morning - sent my kid to school, lepak at mamak with my youngest (where Emre actually behaved because we sat next to cops), went home, got miserable and fell asleep, woke up just in time to shower and picked up my kid from school and went back to work. I couldn't risk taking a full day off when a department meeting was looming the next day (displaced loyalty bahhhh!). Got home, my husband bought me A&W (the nuggets for the kids were raw though) and a tiny cake. Then we all went to bed.
What a birthday.
But it was fine by me. I don't get this wave of misery I feel whenever it's my birthday. It's nothing to do with getting a year older, I promise. Because I am fine with being 2 years shy of turning 40 because hey look at me I still dress and act like I'm 28. I'm okay with whatever my husband said in the morning because I'm an adult, I can take it. I'm okay if my bestfriends took so late to wish me happy birthday. Or the fact that none of my family members called because whatsapp group has taken over everyone's lives and if they feel this is the way to strengthen silaturrahim then so be it.
It's okay. I'm 38 now I can handle this.
By the end of the day I should be grateful with what God has given me (preach it Nate!).
My kids will never judge me.
I have a great husband who works hard for his money.
My family and friends accept me for the way I am.
I don't have high blood pressure.
I still love food (reword this to I HAVE GREAT APPRECIATION OF FOOD) as much as I love the next Korean idol with the thickest BB cream.
I am funny as hell, maybe not as funny as Mat Luthfi-funny, but I can make people laugh with my bad puns and passing remarks.
And one of my good friends wrote on my (semi-fake FB): "You are so blessed and loved Nate. Alhamdulillah." (she is so spot on)
But as I type this I am missing my parents dearly.
I hope they are well and I hope that they are proud of me.
It's good to be 38. Just need a little refining to do.