Growing Up

My 26th birthday is tomorrow. I need to wake up, make calls re: my car accident last week and my health insurance, then my mom and my sister are taking me to lunch. In the evening I'm picking up NBF at the airport. Maybe I'll make him watch a me movie while we eat take-out Indian food. My presents this year are mainly furniture. I put together the first big Ikea piece tonight and am kovered in krazy glue I keep picking off my fingers.
I remember when birthdays stopped meaning toys. I remember when they stopped meaning you were the center of the universe and everybody treated you like a princess. Those felt much more tragic. This is more of a change than a loss. I asked for furniture. I'm excited about my furniture. There are grown-up things I find terribly annoying, but I want to be a silly grown-up, not a silly child. Does that make sense?

Yes, it's been awhile. Yes, I should explain the truck that rammed into me last Tuesday and all sorts of other things, but not now. I'm too out of it.