I try very hard to be a positive sort of person. I try not to dwell on the negative, and I always try to look on the bright side of life and to carry on as best I can. But waking up on my birthday Monday really pushed me over the edge of the happy cliff.

O.K., how would you feel if you woke up on a big birthday? You know, a scary number year. The kind of year where your first thought of the day, before your eyes are even open, is that you need to sell the minivan and buy a 2-seater BMW convertible and cancel your work day so you can have your hair done.

I know that isn’t going to happen…so I hit the floor with both feet to start my day. The time is not quite 6 a.m. and I am, of course, pre-coffee. I barely take ten steps before my heel hits an unexpected slick spot of doggie doo on the hardwood floor, sending me skidding on my heel (just like my nine-year-old does in her wheeled sneakers) three-feet across the floor, coming to a halt in the living room and looking very much like a Flamingo in shock.

The dogs cock their heads and send puzzled looks my way. Is she dancing?? I glance at the cable box for the time display and discover it’s flat-lining. Guess I should have paid the bill before I left on vacation... O.K., now I’m beginning to worry. What kind of new birthday year am I in for?

The dogs continue to watch me and I’m certain I can hear Charlee snickering. I haven’t found my predicament as entertaining as they apparently have, so grumbling to myself I head for the bathroom to clean up. I clean up the floor and let the dogs out; however retrieving them from the yard presents a new challenge. Finney is missing and has broken out of the yard. He has joined forces with my neighbor’s Golden Retriever, and is fence-running, all the while barking his wonderful shrill head off. It isn’t even 6:10 a.m. yet.

So I get my boots and jacket and head across the deep snow to snag him. Back in the house, I start brewing that elixir of the gods – Java – and proceed to wait for more bad things to happen.
For the rest of the day I keep expecting a new disaster, but nothing further occurs.

The slick spot on the floor isn’t repeated. The dogs aren’t sick after all. I fixed the fence and paid the cable bill. My Dad calls to wish me a “Happy Birthday!” He asks "Did you get hurt"? "No," I say. "Did you fall in it"? "No," I say. "Do you know how lucky you are? "You’re going to have a very lucky year" he says.

I guess that’s where I got my optimistic side from.

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