Well, it's my last day in Florida for a while, and it's also my thirty-first birthday. I guess it should be no surprise that today feels weird -- dense and chunky, and at the same time, it feels like it is going way too fast for me to grab onto.
I've never been a big birthday person -- I'm not a performer, I don't like to be the center of attention, and I generally think holidays of any sort are way more aggravation than they're worth. BUT. I think everybody needs to be shown that they're important in someone's life, and I think birthdays are when people sort of hope for that kind of reassurance the most. Secretly, way deep down, I tend to think of my birthday as the barometer by which I judge just how loved I am. And that's really stupid, considering that out of my five closest friends, only two of them even know when my birthday is, and vice versa. What's even more fucked up is that I'm terrible when it comes to remembering birthdays and buying cards and gifts and all that jazz. I can never understand why everybody isn't as excited as I am to receive books at every gift-giving holiday (what is wrong with you people?). The MOST fucked up thing about my birthday is that I always end up receiving a lot more love and attention than I ever expect, and then I feel like an idiot for those five minutes in the morning I spent feeling halfway sorry for myself. What am I, an egocentric third-grader? Why yes, yes I am.
How do you guys feel on your birthdays?