Hey, it's after midnight. That makes this the ten-year anniversary of my 18th birthday, and just a few short days from April, and the anniversary of my graduation, and that fucking hideous summer. Everything should have been fine, but I made it worse, like I've done to pretty much everything since.
Ten years later, nobody knows what to get me because I won't tell them and my actual birthday party is a weird, lopsided affair, just like it was back then.
I still haven't told anyone that I have to pay $900 to the city of Wichita by June or go to jail for three weeks. I really want to pay Esperath for those CDs I was going to buy, but that fine's kind of obviating that—yet I still find myself making up the $18 difference for my trade-ins for FF13, to keep up appearances, which makes me feel like a heel.
Happy birthday, Jason. There's vodka in the fridge but you have to work tomorrow morning. Try not to stay up til 5 like you did every other night this week.