With the exception of a pretty decent 22nd and a slightly above average 23rd, most of my birthday parties since I was 12 have sucked. That is not meant as a critique on the company of anyone who spent my birthday with me during any of those times. It's kind of just a statement of my feelings about the whole birthday party situation.
I don't remember my 13th through 17th, 19th or 20th. My 18th, only a few people showed up because I happened to end up in a fairly significant fight with my closest friends the week before. (Jokes on them, I don't even talk to them anymore!) My 21st was just downright pathetic. My 22nd was a relaxed and enjoyable affair as was my 23rd. My 24th was useless.
This, the beginning of my 25th year alive, will be the same. Well, sort of. Rather than celebrate my birthday, I'm going to watch three different couples get married and make $380 while doing it. Because rather than bother planning another disappointing birthday party, I'm going to work. And once I'm done working, I'm going to cry myself to sleep and wonder what it is I'm doing with my life. I figure this way, I'll at least know going into it that the whole thing will suck, rather than get my hopes up that the celebration will finally be a good one and end up disappointed again.
Depressing? You bet!
No comments:
Post a Comment