Alright, Fine, I’ll Take That.

It used to be that my birthday was something I got to keep to myself and made me feel special for knowing while everyone around me went about their business. When you’ve a summer birthday as a kid, you don’t get used to inviting classmates over because you don’t see them on a daily basis over the summer.

I guess I just got used to having this one day to myself. Maybe a nice dinner with the family. But that’s it. When I began to drive, I would go seclude myself in a library or when I picked up smoking, to sit and watch clouds in a park. Those were nice, because although I try to act amicable to everyone, in the end I prefer being left alone. And my birthday used to be the day I would make sure it happened.

Getting attention from others, especially since my life has recently tended to revolve around being in groups of people 7 days a week, is very, very awkward. I don’t like attention on my birthday because I don’t like attention unless I’ve accomplished something. I was born. What kind of an accomplishment is that? Everyone has been born. Big whoop.

In the same way I need to learn to take a compliment, I guess I have to learn to take a birthday greeting from this point on. Agh, dammit.