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Quack quack.

The birthday weekend extravaganza has been and gone,  and I’m the glorious she of two little ducks,  number 22. There’s nothing new I can do, it’s boring,  but celebrating has been somewhat fun. 
So much pressure is put on birthdays to organise a spectacular display of self admiration for turning another year older.
I’m not one for organising people,  places and times so I tend to just treat my birthday like any other day,  but with cake. Yet this year was perhaps one of my favourite birthdays, was awoken to my housemates singing happy birthday,  I went to arcades and pushed my pounds into those pretty lit machines,  had a meal and then got rather intoxicated!
My birthday didn’t end on the day after working the weekend I was able to enjoy cake and champagne Sunday,  perfect ending to a prefect weekend. 
I don’t think birthdays need the pressure of what to do who to invite,  just friends cake and a bit of fun. 

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