The hoax that is a birthday

It’s my birthday today and I’m feeling... exactly the same!

I used to think that when it’s your birthday there’s something so enlightening about it. It’s a special day. When I was seven, I woke up at seven [this was purely a coincidence] and ran to my parents room excitedly. I jumped on their bed until they were both forced to tell me happy birthday. I didn’t understand how they were still in bed. I had energy, it was a Saturday and I think I was having a birthday party.

At that time I thought that everybody knew it was my birthday because when it was your birthday there had to be a big sign on your forehead saying so didn’t there?

That there was what my birthday cake probably looked like. i hated barbie dolls but that's not what mum thought!

I was seven and had a big imagination, give me a break.

Anyway, so when people ask me how I feel I ask them ‘how am I supposed to feel?’

Is there like a profound change that’s supposed to happen to me? Am I supposed to materialise into a more majestic being, stronger than I was from the hour of 11:59pm to 12:00am?

Am I going to win a million shillings? No, okay.

So since there is no emission of some sort of glory, I always feel sort of disappointed when the clock hits midnight; that and the fact that I was actually born at 2am, so I have to wait another two hours to make it count.

Bummer