Birthday Angst

A few years ago I was feeling all weird towards mid-January. I mentioned this at my writers group (which I DESPERATELY miss like crazy) and Sue mentioned the anxiety people get around birthdays. And thinking about it then, it totally made sense. Why I used to run around like a chicken with my head cut off when I was younger. Why I get all mopey now that I'm older.

Don't get me wrong. I love birthdays. I'm big on birthdays. I get that from my mom who was also big on birthdays. From breakfast to goodnight kisses, she found big and little ways to make the day special. I used to kid her and my dad that it was because they were usually gone to a company retreat on my actual birthday. They felt so bad that I had birthday celebrations during our Christmas vacation to Grand Cayman, in the summer so that I could have a pool party like my brother used to (my "un-Birthday") and so on. Then they'd leave me with grandparents who would feel equally as bad on my birthday and ply me with cake and attention like no other.

This is probably why I was set up for a lifetime of disappointment.

I'm only slightly kidding. But watching last week's episode of New Girl where Jess has these insanely large expectations for her birthday and is usually let down, I could relate. Not because Chef doesn't do a great job in making the day special (he does), but just because.

So this year, I'm trying to recognize the angst and know that I am working on my birthday so it can only be so good by its nature. And I will try to remember that I am off on Friday to have a celebration, a mani-pedi, get my hair done, eat copious amounts of seafood and then spend half of my Saturday getting pampered at the spa (see? Told you I am spoiled).

Until then, grr. I say.