Typically I hate my birthday. Through a series of unfortunate events in my childhood I learned that there was a) nothing special to celebrate and b) bad things happened on my birthday. I wrote about it last year here.
This year is more complicated. My birthday falls in the middle of the week so it’s a lot harder to skip town and hide out. And the day after B-Day I leave for a weekend trip in Vegas with some wonderful ladies. Last year I bought myself cake I didn’t eat and cried. Fun times. Combine the stress of losing Grandma, the typically sucky non-gifts from my parents, no friends nearby, and the fact the dogs are even gone and I’m likely to be an unholy mess.
Just warnin’ ya.
So I’ve come up with a project for myself to keep my mind off of it. (“It” being my 25th birthday, in case you’re a little confused). I know, you’re shocked I have a project. I plan on somewhat obsessively cleaning and organizing my house in the next 48 hours. Then, after work on my birthday I am going to get a coffee and go to the park. Swing on the swing set. Come home and photograph the house in its entirety.
From the mailbox to the dirt backyard, the unfinished paint projects, dirty laundry piles, ants in the garage, furniture I’ve purchased, books I’ve collected and pictures I’ve framed. I want it all, ALL, captured on film.
Maybe to keep myself occupied because if I drink myself into a stupor I might miss work on Thursday, but also to remind myself how far I’ve come. What I’ve accomplished. That while I want people to share it all with I can do things on my own as well.
That and I can use the photographs as an insurance record in case the house goes up in flames or is hit by a freak tornado.
I was born in Kansas. I dream about these things.