I have never liked my birthday. Now, as an adult, I dislike it even more. “Why?” you may ask. In my experience, it seems the older you get, the more people are apt to forget. And what’s worse than a forgotten birthday? A forgotten milestone birthday.

I have always said I wanted to go big for this past birthday. But as sitters and whatnot fell through, I realized that just wasn’t going to happen. As for the day of, all I was expecting were for the important people in my life to at least say, “Happy birthday.”

CJ and I had stayed up past midnight, so we already said it to each other (we share the day). My mom called at my birth time – which I actually think is quite adorable. My dad called in the afternoon sometime. My father-in-law sent a text. ┬áMy girlfriend who shares the day as well sent a text. One of my family members, two of CJ’s siblings, and a few friends used Facebook. Members of my family remembered CJ and wished him happy birthday, but forgot we share the day. My own sister forgot both of us. Three days later when she called, I answered only because I thought she had finally remembered. She had not.

I couldn’t care less about most of this, but from my sister, it really hurt. I have done so much for her and always try to be there for her. We have already moved on, but it was just one more reason to feel like garbage on my birthday. Can’t we just skip them? Once you hit 25 and can rent a car, do we really need to keep track anymore?

This anti-birthday sentiment has kept me down for a while. Also, sickness was running rampant through our house. Except for Q’s ear infection, everything else seems to have cleared up. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that even in this crazy weather, we all stay healthy.