BIRTHDAY FEVER

So it's my birthday.  I was born twenty-two years ago today.  This is probably the first birthday I will spend not anticipating some sort of party, or some other shenanigans.  I feel like being a mature adult and just kind of going on with my life.

There's a sullen pit in there, somewhere, that wants nicely wrapped presents.  Maybe an iPhone or something stupid like that?  Video games.  The point being there's some part of me that wants stuff because that's what I got every birthday for a lotta years.

I don't particularly like that part of me, though I have come to terms with the fact that giving and receiving gifts is one of the languages that speak to me.  So I guess I'm actually spending quite a bit of this nonplussed at myself.

I'm also spending it reading Homestuck because HOLY CRAP HOW AM I NOT CAUGHT UP YET.

I am about to commence with feverish writing time for Workshop, then feverish bored/anxious time while I listen to speeches, and then feverish dishes-doing, and then feverish meatloaf eating, and then feverish I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO WHERE IS MY LIFE.  The latter will likely take place in my office, and I will probably be doing it late into the night.

So I guess, maybe, I have birthday fever?

I miss home.  I miss my college friends already.  Life is a weird thing.  I'm not even very unhappy.  Just a jumble of annoyance and excitement and contentment and discontentment all rolled into the semblance of a guy who needs to shave.

I'm gonna go write now.

-shrug-