Not That Bad After All!

I have to say I wasn't looking forward to turning fifty, I can't explain why it's just that the thought of reaching half a century seemed so daunting. Fifty was the age one my Grandfather's when I was born and that was doing my head in for reasons best left to psychoanalysts.

Anyway the girls (sorry feminists who may have stumbled across this) at the office did me proud. When I opened my door (which for once was closed, we operate an open door policy) I burst out laughing. Banners, balloons, presents, a card, a bottle of Moet Chandon and hundreds, possibly thousands of those little silver stars, a the number 50 about the size of a 5 pence coin littered (believe me that is the right word) every possible surface, including the computer screen, keyboard, my chair, desk and every piece of paper in the room. As the day wore on those little numbers seemed to turn up in the most unexpected place. The office clubbed together and bought me two books: Git Wit and Dear Sir, Am I Alone in Thinking?, the latter a collection of unpublished readers letters to the Daily Telegraph which is one of those pick up and don't put down until you've finished books.

It was also a good day for Caroline who was finally put out of her misery regarding her annual appraisal and pay rise. Having put the case for her forward last August and again last week the sound of her running up the stairs to see me and seeing the excitement on her face was one of the great moments of this year so far. Caroline suffers from asthma so seeing her short of breath isn't that unusual but this time she couldn't speak because of excitement, it was great. She's come on a great deal over the past twelve months since we had a talk this time last year and I've told her she should be aiming to take my job within the next five years. Obviously I explained that along with inheriting the car, pension, extra holiday and big swivel chair she'll have to go bald but she's game and I'm sure will take it in her stride.

When I got home my birthday seemed to start again, Janis and Nathalie had decorated the tree with balloons and the house with various banners and posters. Fortunately Nathalie decided it was better not to put a Paul is 50 banner on the nearest roundabout! I finally realised why over the past three months everytime I have asked Janis about anything other than work or Nathalie I have been greeted with the phrase, "I can't right now I'm concentrating on your birthday." She had bought fifty presents for me, ranging from the practical (an hours studio time at the local photographic studio), to the unexpected (a ticket to watch Hampshire v Essex this summer) to the wacky (a duck in West Ham colours) to the nostalgic (a photographic celebration of a hundred years of West Ham). It was and is something that I've found hard to take in but I am so appreciative that I have a stupid grin on my face just thinking about it.

I felt like a little kid again rather than 50 and having consumed the bottle of champagne with a good meal I was in bed just after 10 p.m. But don't worry, it was just a blip and normal service will be resumed immediately.