Birthday Thoughts

So, here I am. I’m 34 years old. I’m married. Employed. Own my own home. Everything that one would want at this age.

Yet….

I don’t feel happy right now.

I know that part of it is because it’s my birthday. I hate birthdays. Well, I hate the actual day. The lead up to the whole day is great. The anticipation of actually having a day that’s all about you and having a day that people actually remember you is awesome.

Then the actual day gets here.

I don’t do well with attention. I don’t like to be in the middle of things. I don’t like to be on display. I would honestly be happy with just going about life with little to no public recognition at all. But it’s my birthday. Everyone has to celebrate your birthday.

The texts and messages on Facebook are ok. So are the cards that come in the mail. It’s the actual person to person interaction that I have a problem with. It’s awkward. They say happy birthday and you say thanks and then…..

Yeah. Silence.

Then there’s the gifts. Seriously. Gifts. Money or things or whatever and you have to at least pretend to like them even if you don’t and that fake smile that you have to plaster on…..

I just can’t deal with that.

I’m not much on being in the spotlight. That’s why I eloped and that’s why my husband and I fought at our wedding reception. To many people expecting me to perform. Not a good day.

Then I find out that a good friend of mine is mistreating her adult daughter. I mean, I thought she was a better person than this. Jacey is almost 21. She has a CNA and is state certified to do hair. She’s a successful person! But Mom and Dad apparently don’t like that. They don’t like that she wants to experience life outside of home. They don’t like that she’s thinking for herself. They don’t like that she wants to go do things on her own. So they keep her home. They put restrictions on her and check up on her and hold her back. I do hope that we can find her a place to live so she can start living her life.

Then there is my husband. My love. My heart. My Jeff. I love him. I truly do. With all my heart and soul. There are times that all I want to do is see him or hold his hand or just be near him. Then there’s times that I don’t want anything to do with him. We’ve been married six months, is that normal?

This weekend has been great. He’s done so much to make sure I have a good birthday so I feel stupid for even thinking like this. We talk about things. Like, we talk about everything. Nothing and everything. He’s intelligent. I don’t think he’s stupid and I do listen to him.

But I don’t know that he listens to me.

I was talking to him about Jacey this weekend. I was telling him how I thought it was unfair that they would treat her like that. He listened, then he told me all the reasons that I was wrong. “She still lives with her folks. Drinking is bad for you. You shouldn’t smoke. You shouldn’t stay out past 10:30 at night. Nothing good ever happens. Maybe she should listen to her parents.” All things that yeah, I know, but what I really need from you today is to just listen and tell me that they are bastards sons of whores to treat such a sweet person like that. That’s all I need.

It’s stupid I know. He’s such a good man and a good soul. I know that what he says makes sense, but sometimes I just need to vent and rant and rave and have someone tell me that they agree. They don’t have to agree, just tell me they do. I don’t need logic. I don’t need reasons. I just need someone to tell me yes, they are shit spattered muppet farts and we could move on.

But….

Now I have to go to work tomorrow at a job that I really dislike right now, with people that I feel are lazy, lazy, lazy people to do work that is mindless and repetitive with hair color that I’m not really thrilled about after a weekend that has taken a toll on my emotions.

I really need a day or two just to myself or someone to cuss the world with.

Fuck.

Just.

Fuck.

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