It is my birthday, which means that (a) when asked, I now have to/get to say out loud the number that I have been thinking of as my age for a few months already and (b) I am special today. But I'm not the only one. As you may already be aware, every day, every year a great number of people are born. But running into those people who share your day of birth is, in my experience, fairly rare.
Just now, in my building's elevator, I tapped my toes, in a hurry to begin for this evening's whirlwind of work and fun. Two women in the elevator with me discussed plans for tomorrow. I wasn't eavesdropping, but I am pathological hearer, so I can tell you with confidence that one asked the other when she was heading over to a mutual acquaintance's place tomorrow. "I'm not going," the second woman replied. "It's always so boring, and it's the day after my birthday."
I did the math quickly. "Is today your birthday?" I asked with surprise.
It was. There we were, three people in an elevator, and two of us were special. The elevator opened, and it was my stop, but the stranger and I hugged before I got off. It was spontaneous and funny.
Being special is fun.