my first voicemail message this morning:

Ray: “Aw. Pam can’t come to the phone because she’s old.”

It’s birthday week.
It’s birthday week.
Everybody say hi, it’s birthday week.
I’m’a eata sammich, it’s birthday week.
Someone give me a hug!

I didn’t notice turning thirty because I was too busy. I was a little bummed about turning thirty-one, because it really sounds like I’m in my thirties. But everybody’s been so joyous in wishing me a happy birthday and there are roses on my desk that aren’t from my agent, and the phone’s been ringing and emails are coming in, and it’s really nice.

Go, me. I’m thirty-one…. right now!

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