First of all, happy birthday to my dad. He turns 56 today, and did fancy math when I made his birthday call. Today, he’s 56, was born in 56, and it’s the 28th, which, incidentally, is half of 56.

Here we are 28 years ago, to keep the number train rolling.

Happy birthday to a dad who helped bake the cakes and grill the burgers for my birthday parties many years running. Hoping you get to enjoy your day as much as you always made sure I enjoyed mine. Love you.

I don’t know what happened today, but I have hit the proverbial wall. I have zero energy, zero zip, and zero motivation to haul my butt off the couch and do something productive. To be fair, it was a l-o-n-g push at the salt mines today, and I did manage to dunk my sorry carcass in the pool before school this morning, so it’s not as though I’ve been a lump all day. Tonight, I just want to sit in my livingroom with a cat purring while he rests his head on my knee. Leroy is a champion lump; I’m sure he could teach me a thing or two.

Wait. I think all my wishes were granted. Here’s a cat. He’s purring. There’s drool as well, not something I wished for but I’m not energetic enough to be choosy.

Perhaps it’s a sign. I wonder what would happen if I wished for chocolate cake, served by a handsome man who loves to clean house and sing love ballads.

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