I think you get old when you stop taking your birthdays seriously. The moment you stop caring about gifts, clowns and face painting is when you might as well prepare your will and your cremation arrangements. I think the transition period is tough, but the moment when you stop caring whether you are 26 or 86 is crucial. Nothing can save you after that, and this is when the miracles stop happening.

I am 26 today, and I have had a fairly slow day. One of those when you get to spend it at the chocolate factory without actually tasting the chocolate. I know I mustn’t grumble, as there were still flowers, a cake and miscellaneous gifts; yet it is still sad to get old and farewell the usual carefree-ness.

Oh well happy birthday Eugenia regardless! Apparently the birthdays are good for you - the more you have, the longer you live for; so all I can do is to have a  bloody loud celebration; so cheers then.