My birthday is in 9 days. Meaning that I should have been planning something for my birthday about a month ago. Some kind of something, you know? I’ll be 18! This should be something big and wonderful and amazing.
Yet, there are no plans yet. Nothing, nada, kaput. Why? Because even though I have been attempting to plan this day for…oh man, years, it has become the laughingstock of my entire family nation. As in, oh, we’ll wait until the last second so that people won’t show up.
Fun, right? On top of all of this teen complaining, I am feeling the pressure of many real-world issues, including best friends stealing my debit card, being broke, not being able to find a job, and rethinking my entire life.
I’ve pretty much established that in 9 days, I can’t get anyone from the cities here, but a valiant effort will be made. This is a short blog because I just now, finally, got the okay to have a party.
Aww, shucks, how sweet, and I thought you were going to wait until at least the day before my birthday.
I promise to be less stupid, complainy, angsty, on my next bull run of blogging.