Happy Birthday To Me.

I'm 37 today. The weather is rainy and dreary outside, though not "cold". It's going to have to be a "curly hair day" (any day where it's humid or raining is a curly hair day). I am not really satisfied with my weight, my shoulder is bothering me. I spent too much money over Christmas, though nothing that can't be overcome and corrected within a month. But that's about all the complaint I can muster! I'm happy with who I am, and with the directions I am taking in my life. I'm blessed with a wonderful husband, a daughter who amazes and awes me, a Mom who loves me dearly, a terrific sister, and a long list of special and interesting friends. I live in a fantastic neighborhood, in a cute little house, which is cozy and intimate. I have projects to work on, art supplies beckoning me, books to read, yoga to center me, and beauty to enjoy every day. All in all, I'm exactly where I want to be at age 37. Ten years ago I was embarking on a high tech career, drunk on the amount of money I was earning, WAY more than I had ever even fathomed. I was buying a brand new car for the first time in my life, and had very little introspection. Ten years later, just about NONE of that is true anymore. No career to speak of, living dependent upon a man, raising a child, still with that same car I bought 10 years ago (though the husband drives it now), and I'm extremely introspective. Do I feel 37? I don't know what it should feel like. I don't feel 18 anymore, and I don't feel "old" per se, so I guess I do feel 37. Do I look 37? Heck, I don't know. You tell me. Do I?