(no subject)

[violachic]

So my birthday is one week from today.



I will be 30.


That's right, the big 3-0.

Two years ago, I had the best birthday ever. No, really. EVER.

Last year, I was really sick on my birthday, and was several days later diagnosed with Whooping Cough, which sent my sister and six of my closest friends scurrying to their doctors for antibiotics because they ate the cake after I blew the candles out.

This year.... well, this year is.... this. There is a good possibility I'll have to go to the doctor on my birthday.

But my birthday seems sort of like... meh... to me this year. I haven't felt a real holiday sensation for any big occasion on the last five months. I was in Tuwani for Thanksgiving, and while we made a great meal that definitely approxomated your average American Thanksgiving meal, it wasn't the same. And then, two days later our four friends disappeared in Iraq. Christmas- just a month later- was brushed off, mostly. Valentine's Day? Meh- which is of no commentary to the person with whom I spent it. Easter? Well, that was a month after Tom was killed, although Norman, Jim and Harmeet were all safe at home by then. It was also about three weeks after I got sick. I tried to celebrate, but it wasn't holday-feeling.

So in one week I turn thirty. A monumental birthday, a milestone even, perhaps. And to be honest, I don't really much care. Should I be worried?

Comments

[sleepykins.livejournal.com]

as Chris always says, turning 30 beats the alternative :)