my birthday is tomorrow. and i should be happy, ecstatic that i don’t have a paper or test tomorrow. i should be happy that i’m in sunny l.a. going to an amazing university with amazing friends and opportunities. heck, i’m going to spend part of my day with sal castro, talking to kids about education.
yet i’m dreading it. it means i’m getting older, it means i’ll be disappointed, and go to bed unsettled.
i’ll be paper writing and other than these school trip, i have no plans. a friend suggested that i go to dinner with friends but i honestly hate that idea. i have way too many friends, friends who don’t know each other to organize that. it would’ve taken weeks of planning and friends who could commit and friends who’ve heard of being on time. that’s part of the reason i don’t want to do anything is because i hate stressing out over planning and stressing out over minute drama. my birthday should be happy, care-free.
and for some reason, i’ve been excited about it all week, which is the worst because if the past 18 years have anything to say, my birthday won’t be amazing. it’ll be mediocre at best. i always build up hope that something special will happen. and it never does.
so i think i’ll go to bed early tonight, go to sal castro, and then grab a quick bite, come back to my room and paper-write. because honestly, i’m not up for much else. woooo birthday.
