Today is my 59th birthday.
It's not quite 6 AM & I'm sitting here writing, listening to a favorite CD Alex gave me a couple of years ago, Madeleine Peyroux's Careless Love. I'm taking today & tomorrow off. I worked almost 16 hours Tuesday, because I had a report due next Monday that I wanted to finish, (which I did - I always deliver), so I'll still have clocked almost 40 hours this week (yep, this is me, whining about the long hours). All of which is my verbose way of saying I'm really looking forward to my couple of days off. I'm not doing anything major: this morning I'm going to the dentist, and this afternoon I'm going for a long overdue visit to Tuan, my hairdresser. I'm looking forward to that. I know how it'll go. Tuan will give me a hug and lead me to his work station. I'll sit down, and he'll ask if I'd like anything to drink. I usally have coffee, but since it's my birthday, maybe I'll have a glass of wine. He'll bring that to me, and then he'll stand behind me and run his fingers through my hair before he sighs and says, "Ah, Zhoodeee, you do not geev me much to work weeth!" And that said, he'll proceed to perform his magic and give me a great haircut.
I'm having dinner with my family one of these nights, although nothing's in place yet. I'm going to clean my house and do a little laundry. I may start tiling the guest bath, and I may go visit a couple of fabricators to see if I can find a piece of travertine for the countertop in there, because I want to finish that bath before Christmas. I'm going to Lowe's to pick up a tread and riser as I'm toying with the idea of tackling the stairs myself, and I'm back to thinking hardwood is a better option than carpet. I figure I'll start with one step, to see whether I can do it. It's not as if the stairs aren't built, after all, and if it seems like more than I can handle, well, at least I'll know that.