It's my birthday on Thursday. I'll be 34 years old, which feels appropriate. It also feels like a good time to look at other numbers in my life. Here we go...
13 - The number of years I've been in therapy. Despite the fact that my parents' take up a good 80% of my therapy air time, my mom still saw fit to cut out an article for me last week about how bad it is to become dependent on your therapist. Woteva.
4 - The number of kilograms I am heavier than when I got married. Dammit. I used to be svelte. This year, I have become slovenly. And not in a slutty Madame of the House sort of way. I need to get my arse back into high gear.
0 - The number of glasses of wine I can now safely consume without a hangover. It's dismal. I used to be such a festive girl. Now I have two glasses of Chardonnay and I'm slurring. Three and I'm out cold. A regular Lindsay Lohan.
7 - The number of mad, awesome women I count as my close friends. I think it's an excellent number. Less would be depressing. More would be a crowd.
78 - The average number of work-related emails I get every day. Fuuuuck.
11 - The average number of times I say 'fuuuuck' every day.
31 - The number of lip glosses and products in that category that I own at any one time. Which is ridiculous, because 9 times out of 10, I use Cherry Labello.
3 - The number of pints of blood I would give to have more sleep at night.
23 - The number of regular followers of my blog. :)
Happy birthday dear Jooooo, happy birthday to you. XXX
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