Today was my thirty-seventh birthday, and what made it special was that it actually wasn’t (all that special, I guess), but that this was really okay.
And you know what else? I kind of hate odd numbers, and especially prime numbers. I like the sort of numbers you can arrange into clean grids of columns and rows—numbers with fours and eights in them, powers of two, that kind of thing. So naturally I just hated 37, not for being close to forty (because actually I have no problem with that at all) but for being such a graceless amount, made up of digits I dislike. Luckily it occurred to me to calculate the number of months in 37 years. It is, in fact 444 months. Imagine that! For my thirty-seventh birthday I got to celebrate turning four-hundred and forty-four. Now that’s old.