My birthday is this coming Sunday and I’ll be sure write about it when it happens. I am someone who thinks that birthdays should be CELEBRATED. There should be cards and there should be singing and there should be the random phone calls (People still use the phone)(Really) to wish you a Happy Birthday. I am a “words of affirmation” girl, so those phone calls and hugs and a plethora of FB wall posts really do make my day. It’s not that I don’t like gifts — who doesn’t like gifts — but I am happier about the sentiment and the fact that I have a day. MY day.
My day falls in January, which is one of the lamest months of the year. Christmas is over and there’s nothing to look forward to until spring, which may not happen until May. MAY. Welcome to Canada. There are plans for a girls’ night to celebrate my birthday, and plans for a quiet dinner with Matthew, and a few other birthday-related events within the week. There will be much celebrating, because that is what I believe that birthdays are about.
The thing is, last January was when I’d reached my lowest point ever and it happened right after my birthday.
I know that all that is planned is going to involve a lot of friends and a lot of laughter and I will feel completely spoiled. I also know that history repeats itself and while I hope it doesn’t, I feel like there’s a pallor over this week. I am an eternal optimist, glass-half-full, it’s going to be OKAY kind of person. Not all of those pistons seem to be firing right now.
Here’s hoping that I am proven completely wrong. Stranger things have happened.