I angst about my birthday for so many different reasons. Of course, I dread the whole aging aspect. But the really silly thing that I worry about is presents. I just got home and there’s a box from Amazon for me at the door. I didn’t order anything recently. And it’s my birthday in 4 days. I deduce, therefore, that this is a present.
Yay, right?
Except I have issues. And I don’t know what’s in that box. What if I don’t like it? What if I am nonplussed? I am a jerk and often I am nonplussed by presents. Worse, sometimes I find emoting to be tricky and even if I really like the present, I have a hard time saying so.
In a perfect Maggie world, I could tuck presents into my cheeks like an overside hamster and then scurry off to a sly, secret place, open them in solitary, and then never speak of them again.
Perhaps someone needs to give me a running wheel…
margaret edith 