Well, it's happened. Another year. I'm 36 years old. Damn, that's old. I remember I was 14 or so when my parents were my age. I thought they were so old.
And to think that I have a one year old?!
I had a pretty good birthday. It was somewhat upsetting that M didn't do anything to plan for my birthday. I got a card. We are broke from Christmas. I was also afraid that my father had forgotten my birthday. So that evening I was on the edge of tears.
Then I get the call/message and email. It made me feel better.
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