It Is Accomplished

My wife asked me last night to think about what I wanted for my birthday. I've been giving it a lot of thought for the past twenty-four hours, and I confess that it's become a bit of a puzzle. Back in the old days, I could reel off a list complete with sizes, accessories, and comparative pricing. I enjoy the relative comfort of having a birthday that is on the opposite side of the year from Christmas, so I was always afforded six months of compilation time between lists.
I was also very fortunate to grow up in a family that was very responsive to my needs. If I wanted a Fonzie T-shirt I could expect, somewhere in the flurry, a Fonzie T-shirt. I didn't get underwear for my birthday, either. This was due primarily to the fact that my father generally received new briefs from his mother for decades and he issued an edict that has stood for years in our family: "If I need underwear, I'll buy underwear. Underwear is not a gift."
So my list has been narrowed by at least two items. No underwear or Fonzie T-shirts. The simple truth of my life is that it is already quite full of stuff, and I rarely have the time it takes to pay attention to the stuff that I have already accumulated, and so gathering still more stuff seems counter-productive. The trouble with being a grown-up is that there's always something else that needs to be done.
I have ruled out a stay in the intensive care ward, which would allow me to catch up on my reading and watching DVDs without the guilt of having to exercise, because hospitals can be so depressing. I think instead I would like just one thing: To be done. Not with anyone or anything big. I'm not looking to make any major life changes, but it would be very satisfying to be able to look at some corner of my existence and feel as though I had it pretty well nailed down. No need to check back in a month, look in after a week, it was complete. I understand that the third law of thermodynamics is working against me here, but it never hurts to ask.