The Day I Hate The Most...

My birthday...

In one week I will be 37. In one week, the day I hate the most out of all the days in the world will be here. I hate my birthday. I wish we could just go from June 30 right into July 2 and then I wouldn't expect my birthday to be fun. My birthday happens to be a really busy time of the the year, when people are traveling, planning 4th of July festivities, planning family reunions, and every year my birthday was forgotten, or generally just pooh. One year, my own mother forgot about it. When I was growing up I never had a fun party with a cake and pin the tail on the donkey. I never had a pinata like other parties I went to. I never had a pool party... and I certainly didn't have one of those crazy sweet 16 parties like the rich girls all get these days. All I wanted was a party with my friends, but we were always out of town at the family reunion. What a treat it was to spend every one of my childhood birthdays with 35 old people in the mountains. I guess I always hoped as I got older that my friends would have a surprise party, or the man in my life would do something really special... and every year I kind of hold out hope.. and every year... NOTHING. This year will be no exception. I am single again this year during my birthday so of course it won't be spent with anyone "special". This doesn't make me feel better. It makes me feel worse. The getting older never bothered me until this year. I just feel like that's it. I am "Over The Hill" and I should start finding cats to live with me, and give up my "Happily Ever After" dream. 

I honestly don't think there is anything more depressing than spending your birthday with a cake you bought, watching the "Dog The Bounty Hunter" Marathon, but that is exactly what I intend to do.