My sister had kindly reminded me that I have have less than twelve months before I turn twenty eight. What a kind heart she has.
My birthday weekend came and went, and although I was excited for it, Sunday left me feeling a little…off. I have felt a little empty the past few days, without any clear reason why, and the longer this feeling stays the longer I feel depressed. Maybe this is the start of the famed “Seasonal Affective Disorder”, which I refuse to admit affects me because after all, I chose to live here in this climate and hate complaining about something as lame as the time of year.
Deep breath.
SAD is a dumb excuse for me. Not for everyone, because everyone is different, but for ME. It’s a beautiful time of year, with holiday parties, cozy sessions on the couch, and gift giving. I’d be crazy to allow myself sadness and discontent, and yet, here I am. Bummed for no good reason, and my stubborn nature isn’t making it any better.
Part of my birthday evening that was so hard: Admitting to myself that getting drunk and stumbling around is the last thing I care about. I don’t think celebrating means drinking my face off, and more often, I feel like most people don’t agree with me. These days, I value good conversation over alcohol, calm settings over loud dance parties. Maybe I am getting more lame with age, but turning twenty seven has made me place more value on what’s really important.
I sound so lame, but let me tell you, I am happy to stand firm and be the lame one. Especially if it means I wake up in the morning without a hangover.
Hmm, I sound like a grouch today.
Maybe some holiday shopping will cheer me up:)
Unexpected Liberation 
You don’t sound so much like a grouch as you sound like your father. With maturity comes responsibility and greater clarity of what really matters. As you put it… “drinking your face off” isn’t the mature thing to do. I give the credit to you for writing it down in such creative way.
Father loves you.
Haha, that’s actually pretty funny, because that’s why I never went to your famed birthday parties. They just sounded like so much FUN, themed and all, happy and drinky.
And let’s face it, I’m the shy wallflower who just wants to listen to people talk, and maybe once in awhile, I can actually pull of looking cool instead of awkward. I was beginning to think maybe I was just way older than you than our birthdays said. ;o)
Happy birthday, Cassie. Here’s hopin’ SAD stays the fuck away. :o)