My birthday is next Monday. Normally, I love my birthday. It's a day where I get to be extra special for the day. I have always enjoyed my birthday.
But this year, I'm having trouble mustering much enthusiasm for it. I can't help but remember last year, when Hat surprised me with a sewing box filled with new sewing items. It was an incredibly thoughtful gift (he has always been a really good gift giver) and really touched me. He has even picked out thread for me in a variety of colors.
This year, I'm doubtful I'll even get a cursory text or email from him saying "happy birthday." Instead of a fun filled Saturday, I get a work filled Monday. I have zero plans for my birthday.
And I'm going to be 29. I realize that this is not very old. But it's the oldest I've ever been and it feels old bc it's my last year of my twenties.
Ugh.
But this year, I'm having trouble mustering much enthusiasm for it. I can't help but remember last year, when Hat surprised me with a sewing box filled with new sewing items. It was an incredibly thoughtful gift (he has always been a really good gift giver) and really touched me. He has even picked out thread for me in a variety of colors.
This year, I'm doubtful I'll even get a cursory text or email from him saying "happy birthday." Instead of a fun filled Saturday, I get a work filled Monday. I have zero plans for my birthday.
And I'm going to be 29. I realize that this is not very old. But it's the oldest I've ever been and it feels old bc it's my last year of my twenties.
Ugh.
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