Ninety-nine minutes ago I was I was treating myself to a slice of cheesecake from the pub and gabbing with a house manager and a pub employee.

Eighty-eight minutes ago I was discussing the importance of good coffee, even if I can't stand the stuff.

Seventy-seven minutes ago I was being reminded that we had left a bunch of items out (pub signs, creamer, sugar, etc) and scurrying to get it all put away.

Sixty-six minutes ago I was accidentally setting off the alarm in the pub and hoping it wasn't being heard in the out door theatre just across the plaza.

Fifty-five minutes ago I was sitting in a chair, surrounded by piles of money and reports and trying to make everything balance so I could go home.

Forty-four minutes ago I was calling security so they could sign my deposit into the log.

Thirty-three minutes ago I was driving in my car, almost home after a very long day.

Twenty-two minutes ago it officially became my birthday. 

Eleven minutes ago I was sitting at the computer composing a post for this here blog.

Now I am sitting here, trying to figure out if I feel any different,with a new age to report when asked.  But mostly I am tired and ready to be sleeping.  I am also looking forward to the way my Mister will make a soft, sleepy sound when I climb in bed and then wrap his arms around me before letting me have some space to sleep.  I am not looking forward to being woken early by two very eager girls who don't understand the value of sleeping in.  But if I have to be woken before I am ready, they're the ones to do it, with their giggles and bounces and wide open arms.  After all, they're more excited about my birthday than I am.

Goodnight, people who live in my computer.  I'll see your comments in the morning, when I've decided how I feel about this new age to wear.