To Anniversary or Not. I vote not.
Celebrated, π€β Yeah...I celebrated π my 14th anniversary a while back. In a couple months, it will be 15. 15 stinking years.
Not a normal anniversary anyone would expect or even welcome, and definitley not one to be celebrated, but never-the-less, it will soon be here. Ooh, and how exciting it is. Oh Baby. *snort*
Yay! Whoopie! Skippity Doo Dah Frickin Day! π
No, it's not for a wedding or to note getting that spectacular job. It doesn't mark graduation or receiving a highly sought after degree or even the gotcha day of a beloved pet. It isn't the anniversary of getting out of debt or of getting clean and sober. Nope, not a celebration of a major life event, like beating cancer, or the loss of a spouse. No, not a date to kick up my heals for cutting loose a sorry ex, either.
It's just a date on a calendar. Insignificant, and whose meaning is known only to me. It's a day without fanfare or flowers. It's not written down anywhere, thank God. It's just a silly little number on a calendar with a great, big 15 year, nothing to show for it. One that makes me feel old and worthless when I think about it, so, normally, I just don't think about it.
But there are times, like tonight, it's a burr under my skin, rubbing me the wrong way, pissing me off. So while I lay here, in the darkness, waiting for sleep to finally drag me off to the land of dreams, I'll fret and stew about it, curse the fates over it, knowing there's nothing to be done.
That's just tonight, though. Tomorrow, all these self pitying thoughts will be locked back up tight and shoved back into the furthest reaches of my mind, never to be seen or heard from again... at least until the next time. π€·πΌββ
What is it you wonder? Well.... It's nothing, and that's the most honest answer I can give anyone. The greatest, biggest, fattest, ugliest ball of nothing there has ever been. Or not been. Or whatever.
π€·πΌββππ
Carry on Sweeps. I'll catch you later.
Not a normal anniversary anyone would expect or even welcome, and definitley not one to be celebrated, but never-the-less, it will soon be here. Ooh, and how exciting it is. Oh Baby. *snort*
Yay! Whoopie! Skippity Doo Dah Frickin Day! π
No, it's not for a wedding or to note getting that spectacular job. It doesn't mark graduation or receiving a highly sought after degree or even the gotcha day of a beloved pet. It isn't the anniversary of getting out of debt or of getting clean and sober. Nope, not a celebration of a major life event, like beating cancer, or the loss of a spouse. No, not a date to kick up my heals for cutting loose a sorry ex, either.
It's just a date on a calendar. Insignificant, and whose meaning is known only to me. It's a day without fanfare or flowers. It's not written down anywhere, thank God. It's just a silly little number on a calendar with a great, big 15 year, nothing to show for it. One that makes me feel old and worthless when I think about it, so, normally, I just don't think about it.
But there are times, like tonight, it's a burr under my skin, rubbing me the wrong way, pissing me off. So while I lay here, in the darkness, waiting for sleep to finally drag me off to the land of dreams, I'll fret and stew about it, curse the fates over it, knowing there's nothing to be done.
That's just tonight, though. Tomorrow, all these self pitying thoughts will be locked back up tight and shoved back into the furthest reaches of my mind, never to be seen or heard from again... at least until the next time. π€·πΌββ
What is it you wonder? Well.... It's nothing, and that's the most honest answer I can give anyone. The greatest, biggest, fattest, ugliest ball of nothing there has ever been. Or not been. Or whatever.
π€·πΌββππ
Carry on Sweeps. I'll catch you later.
56-60, F