I celebrated my birthday on Thursday (yes, the same date that Michael Jackson died, although for us, it was the Friday he died rather than on my birthday.)
Not much fun having to work on my birthday, but I did get the next day off - which happened to be a Friday, and then Monday (today) off as well, which has more than made up for it.
So on the Friday I went shopping. Something I rarely do. I am not a fan. But I had great expectations of doing lots of looking around and maybe being tempted to buy some clothes, or trinkets and such. But by the time I got down town, into a car parking building and set off, I found I was no longer in the mood for that kind of shopping. I started to feel bored just looking at the outsides of the malls. It was time to have a coffee (and write a poem* while sitting there- which I did) and then head for a bookshop (with birthday tokens.) I did have a lovely time choosing my purchases. I even caught up with Sue who has worked at Whitcoulls since the beginning of the 80s (when I worked there!) back when we sold the Farrah Fawcwett-Majors (as she was then) poster. Sue is the long-term, friendly face of Whitcoulls. Continuity is not to be sniffed at, and I was cheered to find some of it on Friday.
I got some lovely birthday presents, but probably the most surprising gift of all was from my d-i-l's mother, Nuiko, who I met when they came out to NZ from Japan in January, for the wedding. She sent me a beautiful lace cloth she'd made herself ...
(See my initials? Isn't that so sweet?)
I feel like a lucky woman. Even if tomorrow it's back to work starting at 7.15 a.m. and a staff meeting tomorrow night as well as a tax return to do ... Yep, it's back to the mundane. (But at least I have my memories of the bliss of these last four days.)