I feel like I’ve abandoned my blog, an irrational sentiment since there are people out there who have dead blogs.
It occurs to me that I always feel emo around my birthday. My sense of trepidation only increases as the day approaches, and I wish I knew why, especially since for most people birthdays are glorious occasions. It’s not the whole ‘getting old’ thing; I can deal with that. (And, let’s be honest: I’m not really that old. Both Sarah and Sam, for example, are older :D) Rather, it’s a combination of ‘getting old and taking responsibility’ and general emo-ness–or just the last vestiges of teenage angst getting out of my system. I despise teenage angst, generally, and I think I fall into that trap far too often for my own good.
Then again, this past birthday was somewhat more muted than usual given that I couldn’t eat anything, and was reduced to waiting for my beautiful ice cream cake to melt into ice cream pudding before I could eat it. That was upsetting. So was not being able to eat the chocolate cookie centre: I even poked at it for a good three minutes before deciding, No, this is not going to work.
Looking back on it, I have been fairly un-emo-ish throughout this whole “recovery from surgery” deal. You can’t afford to be emo when you have to monitor your fluid intake and make sure you’re getting enough calories and nutrients. There’s simply no time. Plus, the whole plaintive ballad thing doesn’t work so well when you can hardly talk.
Plus, I survived a month on nearly liquid food. That has to be worthy of a medal, or something.
On the upside, though, pretty much everyone who’s seen me has promised to take me out for some kind of delicious food when I’m ready to eat it. That makes me happy :dorkygrin: