So many of you folks are aware of my loathing of the dreaded birthday. The annual pity party that I can never seem to obliterate. No it isn’t like I’m afraid of getting older, I’ve never felt better in my life and as much as I would love to cling to non sagging boobs and to have never heard of sun spots in the middle of my forehead, for me, the birthday blues come every year and I literally found myself awake at 1AM last night smiling at the clock as my birthday had finally passed into the next day, a normal day, a waaaay better day.
I can’t blame anyone, I never have, it isn’t about gifts or cards or anything like that. I got calls, and songs sung to me, I got a cake and a great bottle of wine, no it doesn’t have anything to do with any of that. I don’t put it on the calendar, I try not to plan any parties, I really just want it to not exist. I love throwing parties for other people, I love cake, I love gifts. I just hate MY birthdays…almost as much as I hate Christmas. That is saying it right there.
Somewhere along the way I became jaded, I mean I’m sure I liked them as a kid, but I think it’s the same as most holidays, it’s the expectation of the day and never quite living up to it. There really isn’t much to look forward to really, I can buy my own gifts, there is never a big party, or maybe it’s a culmination of flashbacks of disappointing years past that seem to bring memories of crappy crap. Who knows, but I do thank people for wishing me well and if no one called I dare say I would be even more hateful of this day, but in any case, today is amazing because I don’t have to think about this garbage for another 364 more.
Perhaps if I had gotten a cake like one of these I might reconsider…