Happy Birthday To Me.

And so it is.

My birthday, that is.

'You don't want to be nursing a hangover on your birthday. That's silly'. I remember saying that to Greg who celebrated his birthday 2 days before mine.

Maybe I should just shut up sometimes.

For I, too, am nursing a hangover after last night's very wild bash.

Suffice to say, I ended up paying for alcohol I did not order just to knock it (and the whole table) off when I lost my footing. $12 for a tiny glass of JD and not even a sip. Yes, I was drunk.

Oh and, I ate some plants outside the club.

I was mighty drunk according to him.

Will update more details later. He is flying back to England tomorrow morning and I wanna spend the last remaining minutes putting masque on him before we head off for what I hope will be a lovely dinner with the family.

We have too much to do and too little time to waste.

Every minute is precious.

Seconds even.

So there. My bitter-sweet birthday. Happy yet sad.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME DAMMIT.

PS: Thank you y'all who gave me your wishes.