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March 6th, 2019


Yesterday was a bit of a disaster as birthdays go, so I'll start with the good stuff. Dawnie sent some absolutely LUSH artisan strawberries dipped in chocolate. Bloody lovely! And my dort sent a bouquet and some choccies. Plus cards and presents from friends.

I'm stoked that my birthday fundraiser got £160 for The Scratching Post :)

The people I've worked for for over 20 years forgot me totally. Usually on birthdays we have a wee party with cake and champagne. But nothing.

The night out, well, I sat in Hoxton Square Bar & Kitchen for more than an hour on my own, buying my own birthday drinks, whilst juggling texts from people who were late. Then had the added stress of trying to keep seats when it was jam packed and folk were forced to stand. Went and got myself a bottle of wine (why free beer all the time??) and juggled more texts from all 3 latecomers. Perversely, the topic of the talk was stress. I was meno flushing and didn't get anything to eat all day, so was hoping to get some dinner, but no chance.

Jason Fox, who is basically a smug bloke on the telly, was a smug bloke from off the telly. Nothing he said was insightful or revealing, but I suppose they need a "name". Jamie Sanderson from Rock2Recovery was much better, more open and I felt I learned something from him. However, most people were more interested in SAS Who Dares Wins as opposed to PTSD and men's mental health. Such is life I suppose.

I think I was just hoping for better. Something more in the way of a little celebration for me. But nothing came.

The plus side of people being almost an hour late was a lift home.

I'm cross with myself for getting upset. And cross with myself for being angry. And cross with myself for allowing myself the luxury of thinking my birthday should be anything special. I'm 53, and should know better on all 3 counts.

And the relief was pedalling to the station in the rain this morning, knowing the stressful day was over for another year. Hurrah!

I am going to make a point of trying to make people feel special on their birthdays. It's one day a year.

So bloody hungry this morning as no food for 24 hours!


Call me Madam

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