So...as I told you yesterday. It was my birthday. For most people, this is a happy occasion. For me, I pretty much would rather slit my wrists than have it be my actual birthday. This goes back a LONG way.
When I was a kid, my mom would let me pick out special prizes for the games at my birthday party. The other kids got to pick erasers, pencils, plastic rings. I got action figures, Polly Pockets, Littlest Pet Shops. IT.WAS.AWESOME! However, when the day of my birthday came...it was bad. Every year. I got yelled at, again and again. I was being a brat, I'm sure. I got in trouble for talking back, I got in trouble for telling the kids about my cool prizes that they could never have. I didn't clean enough, I wouldn't sit still for my hair, I wouldn't wear the embarassing clothes that my mom picked out for me. On and on and on it went. I was always so excited for it to come, but when it was here...I was just yelled at all day long. Then, my mother would go into this tirade (same as on Christmas, but it never had the same effect on Christmas) about how spoiled I was and how all of us kids got EVERYTHING we ever wanted, she worked two jobs, we never appreciated anything...blah, blah, blah.
So, this clouds my vision of my birthday to this very day. So, yesterday was a good day because no one knew it was my birthday. NO pressure to have this fantastic day...until I got home. Then, things changed. I was home...the house was messy, but I shouldn't have to clean on my birthday, right?
Randy got home late...because he was out buying me a gift. Does this bother anyone else? It bothers me! I spend weeks, and in some cases, months, thinking of what I should get Randy. He goes out to Target the day OF my birthday...not the day before--the day OF my birthday to get me something. This tells me that I'm unimportant. Now, do I like my gift? Yes! You wanna know why? Because I have been telling him that I have wanted it for about 2 months. Why he was unable to make it to the store until the day of my birthday, I am unaware of. So, I got upset about that, and tried to hide it. I failed miserably. I am awful at trying to hide that I'm upset.
So, he went to get pizza...I started to play Super Mario Brothers (the aforementioned gift) and got slightly happier. He brought pizza home and forgot pop. It's my birthday right? I wanted pop and he went back out to get it. Even happier. We started watching a movie...it was stupid. I went and rented it myself (again...it's my birthday, why am I doing this?). I fell asleep on the couch at 7:30, Randy woke me up and transferred me to bed at 9:30. Yes I DID sleep the entire night.
That is apparently how 27 year olds roll on their birthdays.
PATHETIC!
P.S. My actual birthday celebration, which I planned myself, will take place this weekend. It will be awesome. I will be hip and cool and you won't even know that I am 27 years old.
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