Welp. This is 41.

Welp.  This is 41.  So far I’ve farted and sharted my way into this new year of life.  Due to old age?  Possibly.  Realistically, I think I have a minor bout of food poisoning.  I won’t name names, but let’s just say I won’t be eating pizza from a farm ever again.  I know, I know, farm pizza.  I might as well have ordered a burger from a gas station or just chugged some Ex-Lax.  Farm to table, to toilet.

Anyway, aside from minor cramping and starting my day off by throwing my underwear in the trash, it’s been great!  I made my son’s lunch for school, ran and emptied the dishwasher and then reloaded it again, did two loads of laundry and went grocery shopping.  It’s only 9:54am.  Aside from taking a PTO day from my PAID job, this is exactly like EVERY OTHER FUCKING morning of my life.  Oh except for the obligatory, box checking, thoughtless “Happy Birthday!” texts I’ve been receiving all morning.

Can we PLEASE just STOP these!!  I mean I know I am a jaded, cynical, most likely clinically depressed, harmonally imbalanced, middle aged, dark cloud, BUT just like the coconut flavor in a box of chocolates – does anyone REALLY LIKE this shit!? – does getting a text from every asshat in your life who is put together enough to add your birthday to their calendar app, really make your crotch tingle?  I mean I am sure that endless thought went into composing the words “Happy Birthday” and that the tacky emojis were carefully selected and curated.  Thus, you will receive an equally thought out “Thanks!” text in return.  IF I really like you, I’ll throw a little heart emoji in there!

I know, I’m such a bitch.  People are reaching out, wishing me a nice day and telling me that I mean something to them, that they are thinking of me, that they love me and my gut reaction is please “Fuck, the fuck off”.  I am grateful for the time they took, even if it was just a minute to shoot off a quick correspondence.  I am grateful that they are a part of my life and I am not in fact a complete loner, hermit, recluse (despite my clear inner ambitions to be one).

I guess I just feel like technology has made us gloss over so much in our lives.  People can check boxes so quickly now, that I’m struggling to figure out what is genuine and authentic and what is just meaningless, fake bullshit.  I want honesty, I want raw emotion, I want people to be real.  You hear that universe!!  For my birthday I wish for AUTHENTICITY to reign down over the masses and for the disingenuous, posers and fake-fluencers to be sent away.  Put them on a cruise ship plagued with norovirus and sail them to Alcatraz!

Fuck me!  The laundry just sang its little song of horror “ding, dingitty, ding, ding, ding dingitty, diiinggg” the lyrics to which are “I’m fuck-ing dr-yy, come fold me noowwww!”  My second birthday wish, no more fucking laundry!!  Expect that my third birthday wish is clean sheets tonight and this shit ain’t gonna launder itself.  Happy fucking birthday to me!! Cake, Balloons, Heart Emoji!!!