Pre-Birthday Confessions That Have Nothing to Do With My Birthday.

So maybe they aren't all confessions. Oh well.

1. I've only cried for my grandpa four times since the funeral. Two of them were today. And since I'm going out to their house for dinner tonight, there's a good chance it'll happen again. It's strange to me that I can be so calm and rational when everyone else is falling apart, and then suddenly start bawling with no provocation. That actually really bothers me.

2. I'm scared I'm never going to have a baby. And yeah, I know you've heard that before. But seriously. I turn 25 tomorrow. It's been almost two years. You know what's sad about this confession this time around? I'm honest to god hoping I'm pregnant this month. You know, because I reallyreallyreally feel like the Universe kind of owes me a birthday present this year. I know it doesn't work like that. And I'm not stressing... much.

3. I'm supposed to go back to work in a little over a week. I don't want to. I break out in hives every time I think about it. I wouldn't mind if I felt like I was fully healed. I'm not. I still can't bend. My hamstrings only stretch half of what they should. I'm terrified that going back to work and all the bending, twisting, turning, and lifting is going to slow or stop my progress. Not to mention the fact that my job sucks ass and it makes me want to die at least fourteen times a day. (Yes, I've got applications out.)

4. I'm not sure, but I think BoyWonder is going to try to cheap out on me (again) this year. Normally it doesn't bother me, because I'm practical, and I'm an adult who doesn't need to be spoiled and showered with birthday awesomeness. This year, though? Um, yeah. Not pregnant. Pieces of spine removed. Nerve damage. Almost a full year living in excruciating pain. I want something awesome, damnit! (I'm half kidding here) I might throw a fit.

5. While I haven't cried for my grandpa specifically, I've cried once a day--for no apparent reason--for the last two weeks. Watching TV, listening to happy music, drinking a smoothie... No idea why. My guess would be that my PMS hormones switched from Bitchy to Weepy. Still, not cool. Not cool at all.

So, that's it for now. I started writing about my grandpa, but it's taking a long time because, well, I keep wanting to cram his entire existence into one writing. So I'm trying to get it all out, and eventually I'll break it up into chunks and start posting it.