Yeah, it’s my birthday, I turned 23 en all that, but that’s not important. Well, I guess what is important is that I don’t think it’s important.

I’ve been kind of apathetic about the whole birthday shit after I turned 21. My 22nd birthday was uneventful (ermm, well other than my grandfather dying). I’d like to blame my not having any joy in the day on that, but as far as I remember, my 22nd birthday began with me waking up in my apartment and not really realizing it was my birthday until I was having lunch after class and my mom called me. She told me halfway into a crunchwrap supreme that my grandfather had died and she was sorry it happened on my birthday.

Later in the night my roommates and friends brought an assload of liquor and pizza and we hung around watching movies in celebration of my birthday, but I thought, “who really cares?”. So yeah, just hanging with my friends made the day cool, nothing else really.

Is this just a part of getting old? Ehh, probably, but I don’t like the idea. Guam’s starting to blow. Oh shit did I say that?

lol Nah, I just really hate the fact that I’m not GOING anywhere. I’d be content if I didn’t always fear for my life everytime I go to work. Like, my job is STILL really goddamn hard for me. Every other shit job I’ve ever had I could do in my sleep, halfassed and a fuckup didn’t mean a thing to me. I guess it was the sense of superiority that came in thinking I was too good for that shit. I’m just so overwhelmed by everybody around me’s proficiency at my current job.

I’m honestly at the point where I don’t think I’m good at anything anymore or have anything to do.

Just another whiny rant, I don’t know where I’m going with this to be honest. Oh well, I write more later when I’m less irritable and more level headed.