38 and Counting

The long drive: 001/366

Yesterday was my birthday. I took the day off work and did a whole lot of nothing. Well I did errands and made my own birthday cake.

The cake was a raw carrot cake, no cooking, no flour, no milk or eggs, 100% vegan. It worked and it tastes like carrot cake, but the textures are all wrong. Because of the messed up textures it didn’t quite sit right with my past experience. I guess if I end up going raw for part of my diet there are a few aspects of it that will take some getting used to. Either way, it was a good experiment. There’s already a few modifications I’d make to the recipe to make it smoother and more consistent with a traditional carrot cake.

In the lead up to my birthday I always have a bit of a melt down, I’m getting older, but I don’t ever feel like it. I wonder if this is what it is like for my parents. I know that in the past they have told us to stop getting older because it was making the feel old. I don’t have kids to remind me of that everyday, but I am often blown away by the fact that I have a nephew turning 15 this year and even that David and I have been together for 15 years.

Time is slipping away. It is something I think about often. Perhaps I obsess about time and yet I don’t really have much of a concept of time. I’m crap at remembering when things happen, I remember details, just not when.

And I don’t want to grow up, ever, there are times I don’t feel like a full-fledged adult.

So yeah, I’m 38 now and all I can think about is the one line in a Prince song “The day that we stop counting, we’ll live as long as a tree.” Maybe it will happen, if I, and everyone around me, stops counting.

Stop counting with me.

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