It may get hairy…


Friday looms. Most look forward to Fridays, more so as they start to mark the end of the year and the coming of vacation.

Cat + little redhead that looks just like I did = perfect picture for me.

I have no life, I work throughout the weekends and I don’t have a vacation – therefore, Fridays loom. But more so this one, as Friday marks the day I turn a whole 28.

I’m not all that fussed about age. The older I get, the further I seem to get from my small goals, but the closer I get to my big ones, so technically, I’m sort of balanced. However, birthdays for me hold a special kind of horror.

Firstly, a day that’s all about me is likely to send me cowering under the desks and holding back remotely telling anyone about said day (which, due to my terror, I always seem to do – earning myself my very own high-five to the forehead). Don’t get me wrong, I’m plenty selfish and self-centred on any given day, but a day that forces you down on your knees to beg for attention isn’t my idea of fun.

I don’t want everyone looking at me. As a redhead, that comes part of the package and it’s the part I despise. I need no more attention please. I don’t want the world to see my fly’s undone, or I’ve, yet again, spilt coffee down my front. I don’t want hugs from smelly strangers or lovely smiles that, regardless of who they’re from, I feel the need to smack off the holder’s face. And I don’t want presents đŸ˜¥

Don’t laugh, this is where I quiver in fear. The present giving. Yes, we all like to get shit that we’ve wanted to for ages and the shit I get is good…great even, but the process of getting it? Let’s just say I’m not sure it’s worth the sacrifice.

Days before the big day looms I start to practice my expressions. A one-size-fits-all expression doesn’t work. Present givers know me too well and would know that one present is by far superior than the other, and therefore determines a superior expression. But what if I don’t like said present?

If I’m ecstatic, am I showing my appreciation enough? Do they know that inside I’m yelling for joy and offering them my first-born child? If I hate the present, is it showing? Can they see me plotting revenge behind my tightly stitched on ‘thank you smile?’

The idea that someone would know that I’m not happy with something they went out of their way to get me, sends me off into a stressed, panic-driven spin. The idea that they haven’t the foggiest that I’m happier than I’ve been in years, does the equivalent.

A short example: My parents call me to the nearby mall the other day, as they struggled to find the speakers that I had hinted I wanted (the hint itself took much effort). I rush off there, in dread, but pasted a solider-face on, only to find they’d organised for me to ‘test’ the various speakers. I was in Hell. I tried to look at prices (choose the cheapest), but the folks know me too well and hid the prices. I tried to choose the first one, but they insisted I try them. They know me horribly well.

By the time I arrived home, my ulcer had actually started bleeding again.* This is how much stress birthdays are.

Do any of you suffer the same? Would any of you truly (now let’s be honest) prefer to cancel birthdays and have absolutely no money spent on you?

*On the plus side, the speaker I chose was awesome.

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Comments on: "A special kind of hell" (6)

  1. Ditto with the presents for me. Personally, I don’t think they are worth the fuss…the stress of buying them or the stress of receiving them. Which can be a bit awkward considering that some of my near family absolutely love presents.

  2. Yeah, that’s the exactly the same with us. We’re massive birthday people (I have recently found out it’s due to the fact that my grandparents could only afford to go to ‘someplace special’ on birthdays) and we all LOVE buying presents. I love buying presents, but I hate getting them and I’m pretty sure my parents are similar…but the giving outweighs the getting đŸ˜‰

    We’ve managed to put a limit on the season’s stress though, by limiting presents to R200. However, they refused to cancel my birthday.

  3. Maybe sure to the fact that I live with a bitterly evil unhappy lunatic otherwise known as my gran, I love my birthday. It is the one day a year that true evil doesn’t tell me should permanently straighten and thin out my hair because I look jewish. Well duh my dads grab was jewish. Also she doesn’t tell me my butt looks like two bowling balls commencing with war for space in my hands. (sadly I am not making this up). So to me its a spoil me, I like art stuff, really I love having 9 sets of drawing pencils, so get me more, handbags are awesome, just make sure they are huge and scream for attention. Though I hate getting bath stuff, I always wonder is this a hint?

    • Wow, she sounds like a laugh. Much like the Gran in George’s Marvelous Medicine. Tell me, does she too have a mouth like a puckered up dog’s bottom?

      I get you, though. When you’re treated like shit, it’s nice to…well…not be for once.

      I just get so worked up about the other people, i.e. my folks, that I freak myself the hell out đŸ˜€ Although, I always come out feeling loved…even if I’m a shaking, nervous wreck đŸ˜€

  4. Sorry using tablet and typing is a bit hard.

  5. You’ve been permanently banned for spelling errors.

    Bad grammar and spelling will not be allowed on this site!! đŸ˜‰ lol

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