Thursday, October 29, 2009

After the birthday rant

I could feel the effects of venting even as I was writing this post. Inspite of not wanting to work, I came to office around 08:30 so that I could put in half a day's work and then leave. That plan went for a toss and it was 16:00 by the time I actually left...

I had begun to write this post the day after the rant, but I got so bored writing it, I knew it would put any reader to sleep. So I cut out the boring "what happened" crap. As I said to a friend who sent a sweet email wishing my worries away, all those unhappy thoughts were drowned in cake and coffee and 4 hours of non-stop chit-chat with friends.

Then yesterday, another friend read that post and said, "I think we all need something to be sad about." Is it necessary to say she had a point? My problem is, why do I choose my birthdays to feel that way?! I guess, like my dad says about my mom, "she's happy to be unhappy." Sigh! Why do we have to grow up and turn into photocopies of our parents? Especially in those aspects that we so abhor?! Why can't we simply inherit or imbibe their good qualities? Shrug.

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