I hate my birthday. I think it is because ever year when it rolls around I am reminded of how my life isn't how I hoped the year would go or that my 'plan' will never happen, and that I am getting old. Old age scares me, and I feel like NOW is the time to live...and I am barely.
But there is one day when I am determined to have a fabulous day, and that day happens to be SI's birthday. OK OK, I know that sounds absolutely insane. And even though he has no clue, for me it is more of a 'see, you bastard, you aren't the only one who is going to have a great day today...damn it I am too'.
So for the last few years I've scheduled dates, had sex, took the day off and shopped, whatever.
This year, I had high expectations. I was just getting over a fever and knew that on that day - that it would be gone so I would look and feel good. I took a shower, spent that extra minute on my makeup, wore something great. I arranged a lunch with a coworker and had a good day at work. Things with ManFriend have been off (no surprise) so I put on some lingerie and went over there with that on, and a coat with heels. I've always wanted to do that. Open the door, take off my coat, let it fall to the floor, and surprise! But, it was not the reaction I hoped. It missed passion, it missed intensity and desire. It was like, oh you are here? I totally forgot we had plans, I am tired, and well, since you are half naked I feel obligated to have sex with you. So it was awkward, I felt like a whore but I was determined to have sex on SI's birthday - I can't break a streak.
So, it wasn't an ideal day, but it wasn't a horrible one either, better luck next year.