Doomed By The Bell

It's my birthday today, and since I'm writing this in advance, I can only hope that I'm in a pleasant mood. My fear is that I may be rather melancholy, however little cause I may have for that. In spite of being fairly young still, I do not relish the occasion of my birthday, and. The last time I enjoyed my birthday fully and without reservation, I believe I was in college. Since then, each one has been worse than the last.

That's not to say that each one of those days has been horrible. I have enjoyed some in spite of their significance. What makes the thing palatable is having one's friends and loved ones around. That has the effect of distracting me and pacifying me for the duration of the day. Each day after my birthday sees some of the trauma wear away, and before I know it I have gotten used to being the age that I have just become.

Something that is a regrettable part of my makeup is the lack of any wherewithal to plan something for the day. Like things I want for Christmas, what I want to do on my birthday is very clear to me most of the time, except for when it is upon me. This year I thought that the matter would be taken care of, as a friend was eager to bundle our birthdays together. He is like me in this, though, and so nothing came of our accord.

Something may come together at the last moment, but I'm not sure of it. I have been falling into quiet fits of brooding and occasional incidences of trying to psych myself up in order to face the day with dignity and maturity. It has been best when I have been distracted by pleasantnesses and even annoying obligations. So goes another anniversary of my birth. This one concludes a successful year, and God willing, it heralds one more so.