Tomorrow is my birthday. I’ll be thirty-four tomorrow but today is the day of the big surprise party. Usually I plan my own birthdays down to the letter but this year I’ve had a lot of background anxiety connected to my birthday. Nothing in particular, just this weird sense that I wasn’t worthy of having one. I couldn’t shake the feeling that having a birthday was going to be a bother to other people.
So I told my wife I couldn’t plan my birthday this year. I asked her to come up with something that I didn’t have to plan. If it was a picnic lunch with me and her that would have been great. I just couldn’t be a part of the process. As soon as I asked her, I felt this huge weight lift. Now whatever happens will be because people want to do it.
Well apparently the birthday got so large that there is a mailing list for it. Apparently it is going to be something so grand that I may just have a stroke. Apparently it is something so big, they are still working on it right now. My day has been planned down to the hour and it consists of keeping me busy until the big event can be launched at 6pm.
I have to say I am a little humbled. My anxious mind thought it would be too presumptuous to even invite people to attend a party about me and now I am discovering that it just may eclipse Frolicon for pure excitement. Wow. How did I get this lucky? How did I end up with so many great friends?
So today I am wearing the lucky boxers. Not that I need any more luck, but it just seemed appropriate. And if anyone would like to surrender their booty, now would be the time to do it. I mean, it is a my birthday.