13th of the tenth. . .

It's been my birthday for the last ten minutes.

I'm 35. I'm still unemployed, but I'm happier than I was in the cinema. I still have my girl by my side, though only metaphorically at this precise moment. I still have my hair. It's mostly in my comb and shower drain.

I'd like to say that this is not where I pictured I would be at 35, but the truth is, I never pictured myself ever being 35 years old. I didn't think I'd be dead by now or anything, I just never imagined being this age.

I'm trying not to be depressed on my birthday, but it's hard. I'm lonely. even though I still have some fantastic friends out there, I don't really get to see them very often, and get to just relax and hang out even less. My past weekend rip to Wagga wasn't relaxing at all, because it was mostly driving. I had other shit going on in my head. It did serve to remind me how much time I spend on my own nowadays. And because of my financial situation, I couldn't arrange to do anything for my birthday either, which I wanted to kick off in style, seeing as it's a monument age.

Anyway. I'm now 35 years old. The only wish I had for today was that I wasn't still stuck in the cinema by now, a wish I thankfully got. The rest can figure itself out.

Happy Birthday to Me.