What a rotten birthday. Gifts aside, and who really cares about gifts anyway, it was a crappy birthday. I spent Thursday playing violent video games. It was therapeutic. Friday I worked of course. I felt like crap, all achey and irritable. I had a migraine from sun up to sun down on Saturday, so I ended up calling in sick. Then Sunday, I woke up with a sore throat. Seems I had received at least one unexpected gift for my birthday, the family cold. So today I let my family drag me to Bennigans. It was the first day since Thursday that most of us could get together. Honestly I don’t see what the hype is all about. I’m (part) Irish, but aside from the look of the place, the cuisine isn’t particularly Irish so far as I can see. And I don’t drink, so…. oh well.

I don’t know. It feels like I’m still at the bottom of a dry well. Must be my biorhythms are at an all time low or something. I don’t have the energy to do anything. There’s lots of stuff I tell myself I should be doing, like getting off this computer and cleaning my room, or staying on the computer and writing (as I haven’t written anything significant in months), or finding a part time job. I really, really want to do something, but I don’t know what. I just can’t get motivated.

Maybe now that my birthday is over, I can go on to something else. But I have this overwhelming sense of anxiety. Maybe it’s because I’m an empath, and I’m picking up on my family’s monetary woes and compounding them with my own. My funds are low. Lower than they’ve been in a while, though not rock bottom. I really wish I’d get my tax checks, and the longer it takes for them to come, the more I wonder if I did my taxes incorrectly again. Last year I made an error because of the 401K payout I took when I left the bank. This year I may have made an error because of a pension plan payout (also from the bank). I’m not too worried about whether I’ll owe. Last year, I got about $1000 more than I expected. I’m more worried that any error will be in my favor, but that it will take them till June to send me a check (like last year). I’d really like to get my tax checks because I plan to pay off my computer and thus be free of that bill (and the interest attached to it).

I’m sure lots of people have reason to be more anxious than me, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling completely out of control. It feels like everything is… waiting, holding its breath. I’m at the bottom of a well, and I wonder am I really at the bottom or will I find myself sliding down further into unknown depths.

Well, it’s my birthday tomorrow. Beyond a doubt, it will suck. My birthdays always do. I think in my entire life, I’ve had maybe one good birthday.

March birthdays suck because they’re so close to tax time. You’re either broke because you’ve paid up your taxes, or broke because you’re waiting for a refund. My mother’s car is in the shop and will probably cost $1000 to fix or so she keeps telling me. I asked for a dresser for my birthday, not even new. I asked for a used one because I don’t like the shoddy, expensive new furniture you can buy these days, and they couldn’t even do that. I even went through the local free newsletters looking for a cheap one. Nope, couldn’t even spend $45 on me. I asked for earmuffs. Probably won’t get that either, mostly because they’re not taking me seriously on that request. It’s not like I need or want anything expensive. Aside from a new bed (which I didn’t ask for or even mention to anyone, I’ll get it when I have the money), there’s nothing costly that I need. It is over a decade old though, so past time to replace.

I work tomorrow, so they were going to take me out today. Not even to any place I want to go, but what is convenient for them. But now we’re not going anyway because there’s a winter storm today. Maybe Tuesday, when I have off again. I’m not looking forward to it. I’m more than disgusted with birthdays in general. Most people hate birthdays because they’re getting older. I actually like birthdays because I get to tell people I’m older and still not look it. Good genes. But I think I’d like to give up birthdays completely just so I don’t have to go through this suck-fest every year. I wish I could win the lottery and move far away from my family. They’re the reason I hate my birthdays anyway. They can’t do even the tiniest little thing I ask for. Like my birthday cake.

Usually my mom buys me a cake at a bakery, but as she’s strapped for cash, she told me she was making one. I was okay with that. I told her I wanted a double layer white cake with raspberry filling and butter cream icing. I also told her emphatically that I did not want a box cake. I even looked up a couple recipes online so she would have a choice. So early this morning, she went and bought the cake Pillsbury thinks I should enjoy.

I can’t tell any more if I am pissed off or just depressed about the general suckage of my birthday. It’s like this every year. It’s not like I ask for a lot. Would it have been so difficult to make me a cake without all the preservatives? I feel kind of offended that my birthday is only “celebrated” at a level convenient to the people in my family. I mean why even ask me what I want if they don’t care? I always take a lot of time picking out their presents, and cooking for them, whatever they want. It’s not fair that they don’t show me the same consideration. I just feel so unappreciated. I might as well not even exist.

Last year my sister gave me $50. Probably more than she’s ever given me. Of course, a few days later she cracked up her car. I gave her the money back to help her get a new one. You think she could have said thank you? Nope.

Work’s going to be awful this weekend. I’m going to be crabby and disagreeable, and the customers will be just as stupid as ever. I thought when I got a job at a bookstore, finally I would have the opportunity to use my brain and be appreciated for my intellect, but when idiots come into the store and tell me they saw a book on some daytime talkshow and they don’t know the author or title, but the cover was blue, I want to scream! Nevermind that on the off-chance I do find the book it is most definitely never blue, I don’t spend my time sitting around watching television and NEVER talkshows. Some days I feel like every customer that comes into the store is Pres-for-life Bush’s slightly smarter, but still moronic cousin.

I feel like hitting something.