Happy Fucking Birthday to Me!
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I should be celebrating. I should be happy, excited and looking forward to another year of life. I really want to be excited. But I am having a helluva time getting my heart to do what my mind says to do. It doesn�t help much that I had an awful time sleeping last night. I fell asleep thinking about all those children profiled on Oprah�s show that have been snatched from their homes in the middle of the night, sexually abused and killed by the predators that are lurking amongst us. It�s hard falling asleep peacefully after watching such inhuman acts against innocent and helpless children. When sleep finally settled in, it was restless. I fought all night for some covers, I kept experiencing hot and cold flashes, I woke up with puffy eyes, a stuffy nose and sore throat AND J-mac called at 5:55am (pacific time) I�m sure to wish me a happy 26th. I silenced the phone and have yet to listen to the message. I realize I am a spoiled (now 26 year old) brat, but I was hoping for a little more then a happy birthday (that came 20 minutes after I had been awake) from the man that says he loves me. I was not looking for anything super extravagant, I would have been happy with breakfast in bed or a sweet love note. Hell, I would have settled on waking up an hour early if meant starting my day with him doing more than trying to feel me up. I guess I had my hopes set a little to high. I suppose one day I will learn to avoid such let downs. If this is what 26 is going to be like than I much rather just skip it and move on to 27. The thought of getting older does not necessarily excite me, but I rather be old than unhappy. |
10:36 a.m. || October 05, 2005 |
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Moving day - October 08, 2007 |