SO, it's my birthday on Tuesday (24th August). I'm going to be 25 years old. A semi-milestone in my young life. And to tell the truth I'm feeling somewhat down in the dumps. No, not because I'm just that bit closer to 30, but because I've had a shitty work week, my back is aching from stress, I'm overtired and my husband has to go away for a meeting, on my birthday.
I probably sound like some whiny egotistical pain in the butt, and I know this is self-indulgent, self-pitying tripe - but it makes me feel better.
Typically, when things are generally not going great I tend to withdraw into myself and pretend as though the world and his friends are against me. I am berating myself for having told people that it's going to be my birthday, preferring that they just ignore it and treat it as any other day. But some stupid attention hoe somewhere inside me has to go open up her big trap and blurt it out.
Then I thought I would just take the day off, and treat myself to a birthday day, but that's been blown to sh*t as I'm stuck in meetings all next week and can't have the day off. Poo!!
If I did have the day off, I would first treat myself to a pancake breakfast at Jack's Cafe near my flat, then I would take myself shopping (retail therapy = happiness), then I would come home, take a long relaxing bath with lovely music in the background. Afterwards I would snuggle on the sofa in PJs and the duvet and watch all my favourite movies with a cuppa tea. Mmmmmm... a girl can day dream. I will just have to content myself with doing some of those things in the evening after work :(
I am having a party on Sunday - a combination of cupcakes, Sex and the City and pink champagne. And I am going to see Sister Act, starring Whoopi Goldberg on Saturday night. So, maybe we'll hold the tears for next year...
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