Every Day Is Your Birthday

It’s my birthday.

Or it was by the time you’re reading this. Either way, I’ve been enjoying the extra sweetness.

The people I love are being extra nice to me. Who doesn’t like a bit of extra sweetness? That part is real.

I’m also giving myself no inner pressure to be productive today.

Apparently that comes with the birthday. I’m free to do whatever I want. Enjoy myself. Have a nice day.

I’m wondering why that permission needs to expire tomorrow.

Because the day itself looks quite ordinary.

A bit of creative nonsense with AI before padel. Go play. Go to the spa.

Then I catch myself thinking: you know what? I actually want to build our jewellery business today.

Two hours. Four. Maybe six. Get properly into it.

On the day I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want, I quite fancy doing some work.

That’s interesting.

I’ve noticed that an hour or two of creative nonsense first does something good for me. Make something weird. Follow a curiosity. That fulfils my soul quite a bit.

Then I come to the practical things and they feel lighter. Nicer.

Invert it and I don’t feel as happy. The order seems to matter.

Later, dinner. A drink. A nice meal.

This is already quite close to my normal day.

But today there’s a bit more ease in it. More room to play with reality. Less pressure about what I should be doing with myself.

I might still get plenty done. I just haven’t made that a condition for enjoying the day.

The business still needs results. That’s part of what I’m building the agents and systems for. I want things to work.

And I want to enjoy being here while they do.

So what exactly has the birthday added?

Some extra sweetness from other people. Lovely. Happily accepted.

And some extra sweetness from me towards myself.

That second bit seems available on other dates.

The Earth has gone around the Sun another time since I was born. Fantastic. A respectable bit of travelling.

But I’m the one attaching “you’re allowed to feel special today” to the anniversary.

Why can’t an ordinary day feel special?

Specialness in the ordinary. That’s really the hack, isn’t it?

A bit of creative nonsense. Padel. Something I want to build. A nice meal. Another day alive.

I already like quite a lot of this.

Maybe I can relax into it a bit more without waiting for the calendar to give me permission.

Change the definition.

Every day is your fucking birthday, you moron 🤣