I started thinking about this day at the beginning of April. Taking a cue from good friends, I even thought about planning something fun, something nostalgic like renting out the planetarium my class visited in 5th grade, when Tony something-or-other and I fell in [brief] love sharing a seat together on the bus. But I got busy, and I didn’t share the idea with anyone, and so time passed and I kept thinking how I needed to plan something for my birthday, and how it was sneaking up on me, but that it was on a Monday, and what could there be to do on a Monday? but that I should really plan because the day was going to be here sooner than later and if I didn’t have plans I was going to start feeling really sad and maybe a little blue about my birthday and…
Guess fucking what? I didn’t make any plans, and I feel a little fucking blue. Amazing, isn’t it?
I say this very tongue-in-cheek, but while we’re at it, I may as well throw out all the eff-bombs and get the pity party out of the way. This day, more than any other, I hate being fucking single. Whoo. Deep breathing is happening now. I am breathing in pure positive posi-fucking-tivity, and I am breathing out all the dark, ugly juju that has been festering since 4:42pm today, this very afternoon.
There! Feeling so much better. Just to reinforce, let’s revisit my favorite John Lennon snippet.