The Birthday Post

This day, the year before last-

I didn't expect any presents, so I decided to give myself one. I got my eyebrows done.

Hey, I spent £8. That's an expensive gift.

I bought a cake from the supermarket, thinking I would cut it quietly in my room, singing a miserable 'Happy Birthday....to me'.

I wore a white linen dress, and got wet in the rain. It was beautiful.

I partied on Skype. Eight-people conferences are fun. Especially when they don't get along too well...

My new flatmates made biriyani for me. And sneaked in candles for my cake, risking the abominable fire alarm.

This day, last year-

I found a new friend. Only to lose him after a few months. It was carelessness.

A lizard fell from the ceiling and landed on my bed. A few inches from where I was sitting with my laptop. I temporarily lost the use of my voice, and narrowly escaped a minor cardiac arrest.

I locked myself in my room and cried. Out of boredom.

Today, this year-

I wrote a birthday post after years, renewing an old tradition. About all the things I didn't want to talk about.