It's the last Sunday in August. Next Wednesday, I'll be a year older. Last year, I had a sedate birthday dinner out & thought by next year this COVID crap will be handled. I was wrong.
My birthday has always been a source of contention between myself & everything else. The number of good birthdays I've had aren't that many. Quite often, I just let them slide by without any fanfare, because it was easier on me. Otherwise there would've been drama & disappointment. I'm tired of both. I'd rather not have a birthday than have another crappy so-so thing I should be thankful for. I'm grateful for very little these days & most of what I am thankful for has to do with me & not others.
With the Delta variant spreading, any possible birthday plans are a bust. I seriously hope every purposely unvaccinated adult in the world gets this & dies by Winter. That'd be an awesome birthday present. Then maybe next year I could actually have a decent birthday. F@#K! the world is my opinion at this time. Most of you are too stupid to come out of the rain. Let it all burn, I'm too exhausted & over it to care.
Cya...
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