Once again my birthday is at hand. Yay? At least I think that's how I'm supposed to feel. Yes, I am older. Maybe even wiser. But that doesn't mean I should be happy about being older. It's so much like any other day in my experience. No one ever really made a big deal about my birthday before. Why should I? In fact my birthdays have a history of being bad. Last year's birthday inclued my boyfriend of over a year breaking up with me, after he was told the day before that it was my birthday, having to go into work twenty minutes after the breakup and staying at work so late because it was busy that all I had time for was to take off my shoes and fall into bed before I fell asleep. This year's doesn't look as though it will be that bad. But I figure if I don't get my hopes up they can't get smashed back down.