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Thursday, January 24, 2013
I have determined that being home alone on one's birthday is sad and depressing. I wonder if this is all my life is. If it weren't for the automatic pop up on facebook, how many people would have thought to send me a message today? How many of those handful of people really care? I have to frost my own cake. There will be no gift. No lunch with a friend or family member. No party. But that is how it is every year. Just another day, nothing special. I got a call this morning from my Mom, and she sang her warped version of "happy birthday". I love my Mom. My kids made me cards. They are fantastic. My husband baked a cake last night. It's still sitting in its pans on the counter. All of the chores still need to be done. I have a den meeting to take my 7 year old to this evening. Kids are at school, husband is at work. Once again, I feel insignificant. I think I hate my birthday.