So tomorrow is my birthday, but I'm in quite the foul mood. No, not because I'm afraid of turning another year older. I don't really care about that. If anything, I think saying I'm 26 may add a little bit of weight to me -- it says, "hey, I'm pretty much an adult. I know what I'm doing!" Even if its only true sometimes. I may look 18, but I've voted in two presidential elections already.
Perhaps I'm in a bad mood because I haven't re-registered to vote in New York and therefore can probably not vote in the primary and give Joe Biden my vote of support.
Anyway, no, that's not it. It's that last year I had a miserable birthday. I planned a party/dinner that only one person attended. And he walked to the bar/restaurant with me. This year I planned a party with my glorious officemate who shares my birthday. So far, two people that I invited are coming. One, being the one and only person who attended last year. So praise be to Philip!
People from our office will come and that will be good. Some of them might even converse with me. Still, I feel like something is lacking this year. Twenty-six feels lonely. It feels like I'm on the cusp of moving forward, but my surroundings are all, "yeah, right."
I've written before about how I've really felt a shift this year. Lately, though, that shift feels shakey. Like at any moment I could slip back into 23 year old me (I do wish I could slip back into her jeans, though) and my progress will have vanished. All of the things I have come to understand and appreciate will be confusing again tomorrow when I wake. And then I will have nothing to show for the painful year that was 25 for me. That puts me in a bit of a unfriendly, volatile, pretty damn grumpy mood.