Today is my birthday. Happy birthday to me ! Ha. If only it were that simple.
Every year I play an odd game with myself and the people I know. I spend an irresponsible amount of time thinking about who will remember my birthday, and who will not. You might think I simply want people to remember, but I don’t know that my brain thinks in such straight lines.
People who remember, are cherished. That is simple. I am grateful for those who remember my birthday and already a combination of text messages and cards that have arrived (but of course not been opened before the day) have confirmed that the usual suspects have not forgotten me.
I work hard, however, to try and reduce any wishes that come through either a sense of obligation or because the news of my birthday is sprung upon people. When I used Facebook, it would announce “It is Tim’s birthday” and lots of people would wish me well. But those wishes were hollow to me as I saw them as just a reaction to the computer prompting them. So I have disabled any public indication of the date of my birth online. (I do keep the year often visible so people cannot accuse me of misrepresenting my age.)
So in that way I actively try to avoid certain people wishing me well. I could also have promoted my birthday to people. I mean, good people have busy lives and it might slip their minds. Why did I not mention it when drinking with the boys on Friday ? Or to my dog friends today ? Well, I would then have dismissed any greetings as being the result of me practically begging for the attention.
So I aim to minimise the number of people who are likely to remember me…but will be sad about and grumble towards all those who don’t wish me well. What a daft way to be !
I have very limited expectations for today, in terms of who will reach out to me. But in my system, through excessive effort and thinking, every one who does gets super-extra-mega credit.
Yep. Welcome to my weird world. Happy birthday to me ?