Happy Birthday, Old Timer
I always thought about making a birthday post, but I always thought it was a little self-serving, like I was angling for attention, so I never really do that sort of thing. Except for right now of course. (FWIW, I employ the prestigious law firm of Dewey, Cheatem and Howe in case you want to sue me :p)
Birthdays for me have always been non affairs for the most part, since it was nearly impossible to get kids to come to a birthday party when I was younger. Being born on the cusp of the 4th of July (in the US, elsewhere it’s not going to mean the same thing) meant that your friends were generally (for the most part) on vacations with their families, or celebrating the upcoming holiday and didn’t have time for going to a birthday party. Which was ok for me. I didn’t go in for the hoopla of a birthday really. Presents are nice, but as I get older, I find that I’m starting to run out of room to put things. Which certain people don’t understand, and I have a hard time explaining it without potentially hurting feelings. Which naturally can create hurt feelings when I’m asked “What do you want for your birthday?” and I answer “Nothing.”
Granted, now that I have a pet, she wants to get me things. For Valentine’s Day, my birthday, Christmas and so on. I can’t fault her for feeling that way, getting things for someone shows love and affection, caring and so on. She expects gifts for the same days, (and Mother’s Day, since her own children don’t seem to understand the holiday I guess) so I’m happy to do it, but when it comes to me, just wish me a Happy, or Merry something and move on. I really really don’t need more stuff. I have a house full of stuff. A storage bin as well. I really have too much stuff to be perfectly honest! Given that I’m trying to lose weight, I don’t even have a cake for my birthday anymore. I think the last time I did have a birthday cake when I was working at the bakery. I baked it myself, decorated it myself and (mostly) ate it myself. I suppose in a way that’s kind of sad. Or pathetic. I dunno, it just worked at the time.
Lol..great now I’m depressing myself. Well anyway, here’s to you old timer. 53 and counting. Happy Birthday, Leathers.