I promised myself that there will be a birthday entry.
But we've never been good at keeping promises made to myself.
already blew out imaginary candles flame and I've
Fr.
not have made a plan for the next 12 months, no provisions. I did not do any
summary at least officially.
But that somehow, each year repeating pattern: birthday is in the distant future - pff, birthday parties, great for me - officially: I'm passing up, unofficially: oh, SOMETHING would happen.
something could be many things.
could knock on the door to the advisor / coach / fairy godmother with a ready plan for a beautiful life, rozpisanym in points. Something like, "you will know the handsome brunet high in two weeks, and you'll fall in love with everything sure."
could also stand in front of the mirror that day and despite the excesses of "there" and shortages of "there" (especially "there") think: I'm cool.
Kath and Kathy could also weld in a neat whole, darując my perplexity and hesitation.
alert was not to be. Thus
magical changes also could not have been. There were only
birthday. Just like that.
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