Another celebration means another piece of cake

Multi-layer chocolate cake with large piece missing

I guess I’ll have to eat the whole cake myself.

Dear Readers:

We just finished celebrating my third blogaversary, so I can’t expect you to be game for another party, especially since I can’t offer everyone cake from here. Does anyone celebrate without cake?

You’re probably wondering what the occasion is. There are so many things to celebrate I don’t know where to start. This morning, for example, I took a lovely walk around the neighbourhood with my well-behaved dog in almost springlike weather. Sure, I should have put on sunscreen, but whatever. Life is too short to worry about skin cancer.

Then I remembered to drop off J.’s dry cleaning, since I figured the sooner I drop it off, the sooner I can retrieve it, clean and freshly pressed. Often it takes days before I notice a dry-cleaning drop off sitting by the front door. Today’s efficiency is indeed cause for celebration. I did, however, try to walk back out with not just my claim stub but the two pairs of pants I’d left on the counter. The store keeper stopped me, thank goodness.

Even my gout has vanished of late. If you’ve ever suffered from gout (“suffered” being the operative verb), with repeated and prolonged episodes like mine, you may appreciate how miraculous this is. Why have I been pain free for so long? I have no idea, but I don’t care, so long as it lasts.

It’s been a full 8 months since I’ve had a sleepover at the hospital. That’s worthy of celebration, isn’t it? I can’t even remember the smell of hospital food, although I trust it would come back to me with one whiff. As much as I’ve been well cared for during my admissions, I still prefer sleeping in my own bed and eating my own food.

We could celebrate the plane tickets and lodging J. recently booked us for a two-week trip abroad in April. Yes, we’ll be flying to the land of afternoon tea, wine gums, and fish and chips with mushy peas. (I’ve left out the scotch eggs because they’re one big fried sodium bomb.) To the land of free emergency room visits and hospital stays that won’t bankrupt us if we find we are in need. But let’s not celebrate until our plane takes off, okay?

All of these things are indeed momentous, but do not merit cake. How about this? You are now reading my 300th post (cue the fireworks and the marching band). I’m still waiting for that writer’s block. No sign of it yet. Too bad for you.

A frank discussion of the fraudulent person I present in my blog is long overdue. Sadly, I am much more appealing in writing than I am in person. I’m better spoken and wittier and much more fun to be around here. In real life, I’m boring and tired and distractible. My neurons fire much more slowly out there than in writing.

I guess, to be fair, we all try to present ourselves to others in a positive light. I try to share a balanced view of my strengths and weaknesses, but only to a degree. What if you don’t like me? If you ever want to interact with the living, breathing me, i.e., the boring, spacey, tired me, call me maybe. I’ll pick up maybe, if I’m not napping.

Thanks for reading along,



4 thoughts on “Another celebration means another piece of cake

  1. Congratulations on your 300th post! Even bigger congratulations for avoiding hospital “sleepovers” for 8 months! Well done!
    Very excited about your upcoming travels and the adventurous blog posts it will inspire!


    • Dear Impus: Thank you for your kind wishes. The trip may indeed inspire some adventurous posts, and perhaps even the odd picture of Annie Anonymous. Other than breakfast in bed and frequent sheet changes, I don’t much miss the hospital sleepovers, I must say. XO


  2. Lately, I’ve been looking for an excuse to eat cake. You are one of the few people I know who also likes to celebrate with cake so please don’t eat the whole cake yourself. Save me a piece, would you?


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