Yesterday was my birthday, which naturally I spent in bed. YOU tell me how cheerful and motivated you feel when a) you’ve just had to put down your second-favorite cat and b) in order to do so you had to use all of the money you were saving for your birthday celebration.*

HOWEVER, awful though yesterday was (and it was pretty awful, what with the depression and the frustrated loved ones and the donut shop which OF COURSE ran out of donuts like 5 minutes before I got there) it wasn’t my worst birthday ever. Vying for Worst Birthday Ever:

1) The party I threw when I was 14 at which no one showed up except our neighbor who was spending the night anyway


2) The year I spent all my money and vacation time on a hotel in Seattle for me and my long-distance boyfriend and watched every single passenger on his flight debark before realizing he HADN’T SHOWED. Apparently he’d missed his flight because he hadn’t been paying attention to the time. He didn’t bother to call me and tell me this before I’d made the TWO HOUR BUS RIDE from Bellingham to Seattle because he thought he could just DRIVE REALLY FAST. His roommate said he’d be on the next flight, probably, so I had no choice but to sit in the airport all day. Also when he did finally arrive he told me he was sleeping with someone else.**

So COMPARATIVELY yesterday was fine. I may have spent the day crying and wishing I’d never been born, but no one cheated on me or forgot me entirely! So that’s a win.

*And of course feeling shitty about the fact that you’re even THINKING such a thing, when OBVIOUSLY the whole “compassionately ending a beloved pet’s life” is WAY more important than someone’s STUPID BIRTHDAY.

**His birthday was the day after mine, so instead of dumping him on his ass and spending the remainder of my hard-earned vacation time touring Seattle on my own and eating room service, I wept until exactly midnight and then pretended it hadn’t happened so he could have a good birthday. I…don’t know, either.