I just had a birthday. In this era of social media I found myself warmly embraced. Thanks to all who called, e-mailed, facebooked, sung on conference calls etc.
Before I get into my main birthday-related point I should say that I am mostly posting elsewhere these days and apologize that this blog has largely fallen into disuse. I occasionally post at Jewschool.com. You can find my feed here. I also have gotten into Labornerd where I post occasionally under a super-secret pseudonym. So check me out in those places.
Now, back to my story. My parents came to town for my birthday. We had a few great meals and hunted for wedding venues for a bit. Then we ran a couple errands. When they departed I used a newly learned skill (thanks Aba!) to fix some scratches in the floor with polyurethane. This experience worried me greatly. By itself, fixing one's floor isn't worrisome. What is worrisome is the satisfaction and happiness it provided. I fear that I am now in the waning years of my fight against being grown up.