Birthday Blues

Well, the morning part really was the highlight of the entire day since the rest of the day consisted of managing a whinny, demanding Jarom on some kind of whine-intensification diet. By the time Iz got home I was so ready for bedtime. It didn't help that I was starting to feel sick. But we ate at Burger Pointe accross the street which was yummy and didn't involve me cooking and finished off with birthday cake--or rather an Apple Tartin from Trader Joes which was not as delectable as the blueberry tart. Then it was bedtime for the kiddies and Thursday night shows for the parents. Yup, we're pretty much addicted to tv. I was feeling pretty blue by this time. I kept thinking about Mariko's blog post from ages ago about how you somehow expect something--either good or bad--from the universe in acknowledgement of your birthday and all the mixed feelings that come with it. It probably didn't help that I knew my sister had recently had surgery and was feeling depressed and my mom called and talked with me for a while about how depressed she was now that the reality of her accident was sinking in and she knew she couldn't go back to work for months. So then I knew logically that I had no reason to be depressed since I hadn't had surgery and I could walk and everything. Which just made me feel guilty. So not the best birthday ever. Especially since the sickness really took hold and I couldn't do any of the fun things on Saturday for my birthday either--no sunrise on the beach with hot cocoa or time at the gym or a date later in the evening. And now it's Monday morning and I've finally gotten to the hacking-green-nastiness-in-great-big-coughs stage. So, woe is me. I'm not looking for a job or recovering from surgery or had a tree demolish my house (like the guy we visited last Tuesday for mutual). But woe is me.