Rings around your trunk

Tomorrow is my 45th birthday and I am looking forward to it.

I've never been one of these women who rued each birthday as I got older. After all, it's just a number that represents how long I've been here. It doesn't define who I am. It certainly doesn't dictate my behaviour. It doesn't make me feel any older than the day before or the day before that. And even if it did, so what?

I feel like I'm turning 32. I used to feel 28 but I know I've grown up in the last 2 years. I know the maths doesn't add up but, emotionally and philsophically, that's how old I really feel. I'm turning 32 tomorrow - my passport birthdate begs to differ.

Tomorrow......I don't have to do the dishes. I don't have to make dinner. I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. Tomorrow I have carte blanche..... Tomorrow I can eat cake for breakfast if I choose to.

I don't behave 45.....I don't behave 32. I behave Shaz. That's it. I do what the hell I like and when I want to. I try not to dress inappropriately (mutton dressed as lamb) ....I do want to maintain some type of dignity. But the rules of 45 don't apply to me. I told my Mum that I'm not doing menopause - whenever that's meant to happen. I've made my mind up. I'm going raound it and moving on with my life.

I'm 45 tomorrow. I'm very happy with my life. I've done quite a bit....travelled a bit, had children a bit, married a bit, got into trouble a bit, worked a bit and laughed a fair bit. You couldn't pay me enough to be in my 20's or early 30's.

It's good to be the King - today.