My birthdays are always a bit bittersweet for me. My morning wasn’t great; while I liked my birthday present from him, my usual exceptional talent for figuring out what he’d gotten me failed. I’d built up an idea of what my gift was, and I was dreadfully wrong, and it showed.
Then, there’s the “fuck, I’m getting old”, and my mom telling me she doesn’t know where the time went. I get the regular birthday wishes on my Facebook wall from people who don’t talk to me (to be fair, I don’t talk to anyone). BossRPh‘s husband wished me a happy birthday. So did a guy I lived across the hall from in highschool, and a girl who was my best friend when I was 7.
My father forgot.
Again.
Today, I get to go into work late, as I’ve got an early doctor’s appointment. I felt telltale “tickle” in my throat that always comes before I get sick, and was briefly hopeful of getting to stay home a couple of days. I was supposed to get blood work done, but that requires a 12-hour fast. I forgot about it this morning and had creamer and sugar in my morning coffee. I have a day off next week, I’ll do then.
