Just another day

I turned 31 last week. For the first time, it was really just another day. I had the boys until noon, when I dropped them at school, got a hair cut, and went to the hospital to do my patient look ups. We are assigned a patient for our clinical days. We have to know everything about that patient for the next day's clinical. I got to the hospital around 2:30, and since the nurse had my chart, I started in the computer.

Ninety minutes later, I went to grab my chart, only to find out that my patient had just been transferred off the floor. Totally awesome. I called my instructor, who gave me another patient. After another 90 minutes, I got done with the hospital part of my look ups and headed home. It was pushing 6 pm when I got there and Ry had made dinner reservations for 7 pm. My sitter, being one of my classmates, was also running late, and I heartily considered calling off the whole affair. Instead, when she showed up around 7:15, I put F to bed and away we went to dinner. We had a lovely time, but I had to limit myself to a single glass of wine, since I had several hours of work ahead of me.

I finally got into bed around midnight. The alarm went off at 5:45 the next morning. Truly, just another day.

My stepmother got stuck in my head at 37 years old for the first 5 or so years of her marriage to my dad. She had another big birthday this year, so she'll probably get stuck there for a while. I find it interesting that this phenomenon is beginning to happen to me as well. T and I went to a birthday party this weekend. I was chatting with some of my friends when someone asked how old I was. "30," I responded without hesitation. "Wait, I had a birthday last week. I'm 31!"

T was a big confused by the whole thing. After all, he had made me a birthday card, and helped me open presents, but there was no cake.

But hey, I got some great artwork out of the deal.

Happy 30-something to me.