At the last company I worked for, there was this guy there (late 40’s, early 50’s) with two or three teenaged kids. Three I think. And we didn’t work together much (he is a VP), and I wasn’t sure what I thought about him. My boss at the time always said he was “Pollyanna-ish”. “What a Pollyanna.” In any event, I was chatting with him one day and he started talking about his kids. And he said nothing makes him more upset then when someone says “Whatever” to him. And his kids did it all the time and it aggravated him more than anything else.
I wonder what he would think about me right now, because I feel “Whatever” about everything. My birthday was last weekend. What did I want to do for my birthday? The husband asked. “Whatever.” What do I want to eat for my birthday dinner at my mother’s? “Whatever.” What do I want for a gift? “Whatever.” Whatever, whatever, whatever.
I usually love my birthday, and instead I just spent the day feeling WHATEVER. Annoyed that I am another year older. Sad that I don’t have my 8 month old baby with me. Sad that I am not 39 weeks pregnant and expecting Baby 2’s birth this coming weekend. Pissed off when people mention how “old” I am getting (even jokingly.) Gee, thanks for that. I didn’t know how old I am, I must have forgotten how to do math in my old age. Now I’m old and my ovaries and eggs are probably withering away, thanks for reminding me friend.
I never used to feel old before. I really believed “Age ain’t nothing but a number.” I was 30 years old but felt like I was still 25. I worked out. I ate well. I was going to defy time and look young and feel young. Today I am 32 and feel like I am 50 or something. I don’t feel as young as I used to. One of my mother’s coworkers that I just met for the first time told me how “youthful” I look. Well, I don’t feel youthful. I am eating like crap. Not exercising enough. Wallowing in depression when it hits. The past weekend I had an excuse to be lazy and eat fattening foods for my birthday, but really there is no legitimate excuse for how I am letting myself slide. I know this. I’m sure I could pick myself up and start eating better and exercising more again, but now I am stuck in a rut. I never used to feel old until I felt all this grief. At times it weighs me down so much and I feel like I can’t breathe. Other times I feel fine.
As for my birthday, it was fine. It wasn’t bad at all. My family did their best to make it a good day for me and I appreciate that. On Friday I found out that I won a free Fitbit through one of our benefits providers at work! So that was a good start to the birthday weekend. Saturday evening we went out for dinner with my friend L and her husband. We went for hibachi, and the food was excellent but the service was “Meh.” We had a 7PM reservation and didn’t eat until 9PM, so that tells you something. Sunday morning The Husband made me breakfast in bed, and I ate and watched some Modern Family that was on my DVR (love me some Phil.) The Husband and I then went shopping at our local outlet mall, and I must have given a death glare to every noticeably pregnant woman I saw. I know it’s illogical, and I certainly don’t know how easy or difficult it was for that woman to get pregnant, but she was pregnant and I wasn’t and it was my birthday and I wanted to give those pregnant ladies my bitch face. I got some new boots and clothes. We had dinner at my mother’s house with her, her fiancé, my grandmother, brother and his girlfriend. We had all my favorite foods (pizza, chicken wings, ice cream cake) and I brought my doggie over so she could play with her “aunt and uncles” (my mother’s three dogs.) She had a grand old time running around and playing. It was a perfectly fine day from the outside, but it just always feel like something is missing on the inside.
So, here’s to 32. May it be better to me than 31.