It’s my birthday today.
Well, no, yesterday technically. It’s 1:30 in the morning and the birthday shenanigans ended an hour and a half ago.
Not that there was shenanigans.
In fact there was not even a single shenanigan.
It could not have been more shenaniganless.
WordPress wants me to correct shenaniganless. It doesn’t realize that this is my party and I’ll write what I want to.
You laughed. I saw you.
The reality of my birthday was that I spent most of the day lying in bed watching TV. I didn’t really want to get on the computer because that meant I had to sit and it doesn’t take long for sitting to turn into hurting. Not that I don’t hurt all. the. fucking. time. lately, but the bed gives me more leeway in changing positions to, at best, make it hurt differently.
It’s good to mix things up a bit.
I spent a lot of time on Facebook, responding to all the fine people that wished me a happy birthday, and thank you again to all the people that called and texted. My roommate bought me two packs of smokes so it’s not like I didn’t go without presents either.
There are particular ages we all get to celebrate with particular vigor.
- Age 5 we get to say “Dis many!” and use our entire hand
- Age 13 we become teenagers
- Age 18 we are adults legally, not necessarily in practice
- Age 21 we are old enough to destroy our livers
This birthday was a milestone too.
I can officially move into a retirement community. Not that I can do anything that even resembles retiring, nor am I a “community” type fella, but I can now move in with old, white, Republicans.
Yaaay me!
Mostly what I did today was look through the TV and contemplate where my life had ended up at my age. If you could have told me who and what I would be at 55 when I was a 17 year old leaving for his freshman year in college, the first thing I would have done is drop out then instead of wasting two years, but then, hindsight is 2023.
A recovering drunk (yes, AGAIN), unable to work because of injuries suffered from a car wreck that there is no explainable reason that I survived, multiple diagnosis of a variety of mental health disorders, high blood pressure, rapidly declining vision and the cherry on top, a slightly enlarged prostate.
That last one is new. Went in for a regular doctors appointment last week and the lovely woman who is my doctor, violated me in unspeakable ways in order to inform me of that particular development.
She did say that it wasn’t unusual in someone “my age”. Pretty snide from the 13 year old girl that apparently completed medical school. So, on top of the multitude of pills I’m already taking, there is a new one.
On the upside, it doesn’t take me 10 minutes to pee anymore.
TMI? Welcome to the writing that is mine. Get used to it.
If you didn’t text me a happy birthday, or post it on Facebook or any other electronic method, don’t sweat it. It wasn’t really a celebration at all. It was more of an “Oh my fucking God, get your shit together because you don’t want to go out like this!” kind of day.
Unemployed, broke, trying to figure out how to pay rent and bills, physically and mentally a train wreck and romantically, well, that one doesn’t exist. Divorced twice should have told me something but my dumb ass keeps trying to find new women because they are soft and squishy and I like them. They just don’t like me. They do at first, but stick around, I’ll piss them off beyond all recognition soon.
Is this all just me feeling sorry for myself?
Yes and no. It’s more my stream of consciousness for today. Yes, I beat myself up in my head. It’s one of the myriad of symptoms of my mental disorders. No, because being aware of who and what I am, I am encouraged to change those things and try to be better and heal and clean up my bullshit.
Near death experience didn’t hurt either.
In the meantime, I’ll continue to write. Splatter my brain vomit onto the keyboard and share it with the world. While this post may not have been the most chipper environment I like to create, I hope I put enough humor in it to get you this far.
THAT, my friends, is the one thing that makes me the happiest. To make you laugh. Making people laugh is better for my mental health than any drug they can give me, and they give me a lot.
So stick around. Invite your friends and share the links to my posts on your Facebook page, Twitters (or “X” for some fucking reason) and anywhere else you can. The more the merrier… or whatever mood that particular post is expressing. You never know what I’m gonna write.
Because I don’t either.
Though, I do have a thing about name brands vs generic or store brands that I need to get off my chest. An odd choice for a topic, but one I hold near and dear and I have firmly implanted opinions on the subject that will either piss you off or have you rolling on the floor.
That one is coming soon. In the meantime, it’s time to hit “Publish” on this one.
After I proofread it.
Three times.
I love all you weird fuckers that come here to read.
Keep coming back!
(Some of you will know where I got that phrase from.)
