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The Birthday Curse

So I’m a few hours away from turning 31, and looking back at everything I have been through this year, it seems the curse that has plagued me since I was a teenager has yet again reared its ugly head.

It all started around my 16th birthday when I got into a stupid argument with my Grandpop about how he was spending more time with the step grandkids than me, a few days before my 16th birthday, he passed away from chronic lung issues,  and I never got the chance to apologize. I often wish I did. Spending your Sweet 16 in a funeral home was an awkward experience.

Since then, every year brought on weird challenges that I just couldn’t explain. From lost friends, lost state test scores in a weird disability hiding scheme, break up with my first love, and other stupid crap followed me well into my high school and college years, and many more wacky things followed, from freak accidents involving basket weaving, car crashes, psycho roommates, lost jobs, weird illnesses, the whole Ovarian Cancer thing, and so many more obscure situations, you can’t even imagine. 

Each year, the Curse reaches its peak around mid September, although this year, it decided to rear itself in early August like some kind of freak apocalypse with the loss job and the whole Baker Act thing, it’s aftermath still apparent with my still pending placement at work due to my stupid accomodations in the way. It’s a never ending cycle that could very well end in packing my stuff and leaving this nightmare behind.

With all of this nonsense, iy makes me wonder what I did to piss off the cosmos. 

Here’s to another year of bullshit.

Oh wait, I’m too broke for booze.

Fuck. 😢


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