I’m one of those people that gets really excited about their birthday. Not my arthritis birthday – that’s not until October – but my actual birthday.
It’s on Saturday (the 19th) if any of you are wanting to wish me many (or any) happy returns.
I don’t know why I like my birthday so much, it should just be like a normal day really, or a depressing day if anything. One step closer to the grave and all that. Plus there’s no real fun now in getting older.
It’s obvious to say it, but I’m getting older and it feels like my youth is flying by. I’m finding it very upsetting to get further and further away from the teenage years and the glory days of my early 20s. I mean, 24 is mid-20s isn’t it? Mid-20s. Wow.
I mean, when do I need to start being sensible and settling down, being responsible and that. My dad had been married to my mum for almost two years by the time he was the age I am now. Some of my friends are already married.
I’m not saying I want to get married – and my boyfriend breathes a sigh of relief – but I just feel like maybe I should be a bit more grown up. I mean, I’ve just got my first proper job. I’m technically still a student.
But still, I am excited about celebrating the increasing proximity to my death, with cake and friends and alcohol and dancing. I love birthdays.
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(Any opinions expressed in Collette’s blog are not necessarily shared by Arthur’s Place. Nothing that you read in Collette’s blog constitutes medical advice.)