So, I’ve been twenty-two for almost two weeks now. Yay, birthdays! Or maybe not quite. The older I get, the less excited I get about my birthday. That sounds so cliché, but it’s true. And it’s not the “oh, I’m getting sooo old”, either. It’s the “I get freaked out when I’m the hostess of any sort of parties so I won’t have a party but oh boy I want to be a huge attention whore and be celebrated but people don’t care all that much and CAN THIS DAY JUST BE OVER PLEASE?”. This year, especially, although my mum was trying her hardest, was definitely not the best birthdays of all. That might just be because last year’s can absolutely not. Be. Topped.
Last year, three of my best friends from Berlin got in a car and drove four hours to see me for about two hours and then drive back for another four hours. And I didn’t know about it beforehand! There they were, in the staircase, and I screamed as soon as I recognised them. The only person I saw this year was my mum. And don’t get me wrong, my mum is amazing and I love her to bits, but she was literally the only person I saw on my birthday.
The gift situation this year was awkward as well. Now, I’m trying to tell myself that I don’t care about presents at all, and for the most part that is true, but there’s still this attention-sucking part of me that luuuurrrvs presents and birthday cards, and this year I didn’t get … any. Now, there are at least two packages stuck in the mail, two that haven’t been sent, and one present that I haven’t got yet because the person wanted to give it to me in person, but it still felt a bit awkward not to have anything to open on the day itself.
I shouldn’t complain. Really, I shouldn’t. My mum was here, we spent the day strolling through the City of London and taking touristy pictures, ate lovely waffles at Pure Waffle and had dinner at my favourite restaurant (yes. Wagamama. You guessed right). All in all, as far as days go, it could have been a lot more boring. And yet. I’m old(er) now. I’m allowed to be grumpy. 😀