Happy Birthday To Me

I don’t know if I have ever wished myself a happy birthday before. Today was that kind of day. I awoke to Mark wishing a happy birthday (and he had the day off). Then I went down stairs, packed my lunch and found the most beautiful card he has ever given me. It brought happy tears to my eyes. I started on my way to work and had to put my sunglasses on; it was sunny out. I think all the sunlight was supercharging my vitamin D. It seems everything was extra sweet. And the best part of all of it was I never spent one second thinking it had to be too good to be true.

When Emily was young the woman that watched her used to always say, “You make your own day.” Often, I can remember feeling really annoyed and irritated when she said it. Looking back it was because she was right and I was miserable.

Today I did it. I made my own day. I don’t think there was much that could have wrecked havoc. I wouldn’t have let it. And I think that is part of the secret. I need to wake up every day and choose to be happy. And if I can’t do that, I need to stop, remember today and think about why I would choose anything else. It’s OK to have a bad day but its not OK to have a bad week or month or year. That is so yesterday.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life. I have always been drawn to that saying.  Now I plan to put it into action.


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