Good morning, world. It’s a new day, and it’s Friday. Podrick’s morning started early, but he was manageable today.
It’s almost always a 50/50 chance that I have a shitty birthday, and the 49th was no different. Shawshank had a closing shift, and I planned on logging in and streaming. I dragged things into the bedroom and was setting up, but the more I set up, the less I wanted to stream. It was my birthday, and aside from Shawshank and his mom, no one who mattered said anything.
None of the people who have my number texted. A few people left birthday wishes posted on my Facebook wall. At nearly midnight (her time), BossRPh texted. My mother, the woman who unceremoniously dumped me from her vagina after 24 hours of labor, the woman who had not one but two conversations with me this week about what day my birthday is, didn’t wish me a happy birthday. By the time I needed to get dressed, I was nearly in tears at the thought of trying to be happy, hot, and horny for a bunch of broke dudes who think giving me a nickel is enough for me to spread my cheeks and make my asshole wink when no one cared enough to wish me a happy birthday.
So I put most of the stuff back, went back to the couch, and watched “ER” all day.
Let’s hope today is better.
