As birthdays go, this one was my typical lame day. If you know anything about me, you know I dread and hate my birthday. I really really do. (I have pretty good reason, since I've had sucky ones for about 5 years running now.) It wasn't bad as a regular day goes, so I can't really complain. It just wasn't special. It wasn't anything. It was just a day. Same as all the others. Two good things though, before I make you think it was entirely crappy... I had lunch with my Mom, aunt Paula, and Grandma (who shares my birthday, and turned 78 yesterday). And the boys made me a cute little card.
Mom and aunt Paula attempted to make me some cupcakes, but they didn't bake right, sunk in the middle, and then all the icing fell off in the box. So that's a bummer.
I guess I should stop having birthdays altogether. I try so hard every year not to let myself have any expectations whatsoever. It's hard to be disappointed when you expect nothing. But then again, it would be nice to have a special day without having to ask for it. You know? I would really love it if one of these years my husband would 1) remember that it's even happening, 2) plan something even remotely special. Or at this point I'd settle for a card, sign, balloon, flower, breakfast, text message, phone call, or anything. I don't want him to spend money on me, really. I'm not even asking for a gift. I just want to know he knows and that he cares. It's stupid and I feel like a loser for even talking about it. Blech. This sucks.
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