My real 21st birthday was a bit of debauchery, the long story short of it is I rallied as I was destined to do. My big day took place in concert with an annual Spring Fling, some might say in competition with my big day, but ultimately it helped to celebrate my long awaited 21st. Last night I went out with out the intention of any kind of debauchery however I write from my couch which I'm not sure I have had the strength to leave all day. C asked what made me go out like it was my 21st? Do you not know that you are almost 30?
Apparently not and apparently almost 30 qualifies me for death's door. You think there is nothing worst than having a hang over, until you realize the real hell that awaits you. Ah the days where my biggest chore of the day would be to go to the cafeteria and get a jug of coke for which I felt was a sure fire hangover cure. No, nothing is worst than having a hang over and a one year old. Especially a one year old who doesn't understand English. I attempted to teach her the meaning of shut up for the better part of the day, however to no avail. She honestly didn't stop talking and screaming for the better part of the day. Apparently she is angry at me otherwise there is no reason she would have put me through the pain she bestowed on me. As usual C was a dream and took care of me in my moments of darkness, now only if he could master teaching the child when to quit it.