my birthday is coming up in less than two weeks. I do love birthdays and look forward to the opportunity to have fun or spoil somebody, but my birthday is another different matter.
A week to the date is filled with a certain dread – the type you feel when going for a minor (dental) surgery, perhaps. When someone says “your birthday is next week” or “Hey, 3 days to go!”, my heart literally skips a beat, and I begin to ask myself questions like “Why did this month come so soon?” or “I don’t feel like celebrating” (but I really do).
A day or two to my birthday, I suddenly get super-excited. I’m thinking: “Should I paint my nails”… “Should I paint my house?”… “Will I finally get a car as a gift?” (Yeah, right). Its amazing how high I really feel. The rush stays on till past midnight when I get my first text or call …
On my birthday, I wake up dead sober. I answer my calls with the seriousness of someone who just got a year older. Shoot. The rest of the day, I am finally infected with the joy others bring with their calls, texts, and presents.
In the dead of the night, when I’m in bed regurgitating the day, I’m filled with a sense of gratitude for my friends, and especially the gift of life.
Two weeks later and I am so upset that my birthday is gone – What the hell I’m I supposed to look forward to for the rest of the year?
It’s less than two weeks to my birthday. The dread is yet to set in – I’m not looking forward to it. In fact, I hope it doesn’t show up. I hope to eagerly await my birthday (and the presents!) and enjoy the day as it unfolds.
Shoo, birthday blues!
Never got to talk about the reason for birthday blues. Lets do that in another post: Birthday blues II (sounds like a horror movie, doesn’t it?)