My birthday was yesterday. I turned 47. I realized that in keeping this journal over the years it has been literally a quarter of my life thus far. Kind of super crazy.
In the past I've enjoyed a stellar meteor shower for my birthday, and I've gone to see Barenaked Ladies and Ed Robertson made me cry.
This year was incredibly quiet, and some would say boring. But I am okay with that.
I've been working in Boston, and on Tuesdays Doug and I drive in together. He gets me to the Wellington T station in the morning, and I schlep in on the T. I then await a call from him that says he is done for the day and headed my direction if I want a ride home.
I have the option to tell him to head north, or to tell him to come get me.
He came to me and got to my office before 5pm, which is typically unheard of, but traffic was kind. He scored a spot in front of my office, again... unheard of. I came down to meet him and we talked about our food options.
Directly at the end of the block is a place called Tavern Road Restaurant, so we opted to go there.
Dinner was delicious. I have never had marrow butter and now want it all day (it's like gravy, for those who don't know what it is, so don't be thinking I am making butter out of animal bone marrow... gravy. think gravy. you like gravy... and you'd love marrow butter).
We were home by 7:30.
I was asleep by 9:30.
Welcome to 47.