It’s My Party, And I Will Cry If I Want To.

Today is my birthday, and I am trying to be positive but it isn’t working out.

Mom has been in the hospital for over a month, but what she is supposed to be doing right now is taking me out for pancakes. So far, every moment of the morning has been permeated by the thought that my mother isn’t present. It is depressing me, and the fact that I got a free iced coffee this morning for no good reason is, so far, the high point of my day.

Bernie is baking me a cake, and if it doesn’t rain this evening, we are going to some sort of hippie congregation at the park. But what I’m not doing is having a barbecue with my mother’s cucumber salad. See? Every happy thing seems to be getting cancelled out by a sad thing.

I’m going to see Mom this afternoon, so that is something to look forward to. Bern claims that she said my name the other day, so I’m going to see if I can get any noises out of her. Then I’m going to stop by my Gram’s house and see her, which always cheers me up, so hopefully by the time Bern shows up with cake, I will be in a better mood.

But right now, my iced coffee is gone and my hand keeps falling asleep as I type, so…bye.