Well, I was keeping quiet about my birthday but I forgot DeadJournal automagically sends out reminders to people… so 'thank you' to everyone who posted messages when they found out. I actually don't feel too bad about being 35. I have one or two grey hairs at my temples, my beard is a bit more grizzled at the front each time I grow it, and my joints creak more than they used to but on the whole I don't feel too bad at all. The times I feel old are always comparative, not absolute – by which I mean, I see the way and and the rest of their crowd interact, or the T21 Twentysomethings, and I feel old in comparison. But then usually someone tells me not be such a damn fool and I'm fine again.

I rang a mortgage specialist today to find out more about how much we could borrow to make the plan of buying somewhere in St Ives happen. We want a cottage that we can rent out to holidaymakers most of the year, and which will therefore pay for itself, but which we can retreat to every so often when the city life gets too much for us. It looks like the plan could be financially viable, but it'll take a lot of time to organise… we'll see.

So far, I've avoided anyone at work discovering that it's my birthday. The last thing I want is them appearing out of nowhere with a cake, like they did last year.

Mind you – mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm cake…