I'd rather call it off than wait for it to work
As last year came to a close I began to dread this year for one specific reason: birthdays.
For the last few years it has felt like everyone wanted to have a get together for their day. Everyone being the tiny amount of friends I find myself relating to most. Time has whittled away the unimportant ones who weren't worth the trouble and left this group of us together, for better or worse. In our group, at least one birthday falls in each month from December to May.
Once a month, every few weeks, we get together. I dread the monotony. I dread the faked effort and enthusiasm. I dread my interest and lack thereof. We're us which means there is little in the way of new, different or adult. I'm not putting anyone down, do what makes you happy. You. Because I can't be pleased. But I know that, so I wouldn't want anyone to sweat it.
I'm thrilled to avoid my birthday. It's not about pity or some self-loathing desire for attention, I'm genuinely fine not doing anything at all "special." Food is cool, but why bother pretending it's much else. It's another day and another dinner.
This year, I'm thinking Jessica Day has the right idea. I don't expect a Nick Miller.
For the last few years it has felt like everyone wanted to have a get together for their day. Everyone being the tiny amount of friends I find myself relating to most. Time has whittled away the unimportant ones who weren't worth the trouble and left this group of us together, for better or worse. In our group, at least one birthday falls in each month from December to May.
Once a month, every few weeks, we get together. I dread the monotony. I dread the faked effort and enthusiasm. I dread my interest and lack thereof. We're us which means there is little in the way of new, different or adult. I'm not putting anyone down, do what makes you happy. You. Because I can't be pleased. But I know that, so I wouldn't want anyone to sweat it.
I'm thrilled to avoid my birthday. It's not about pity or some self-loathing desire for attention, I'm genuinely fine not doing anything at all "special." Food is cool, but why bother pretending it's much else. It's another day and another dinner.
This year, I'm thinking Jessica Day has the right idea. I don't expect a Nick Miller.