Happy Fucking Birthday to Me

I know that once you get to be over the age of around twelve, birthdays become less than exciting; and after you reach the age of twenty-one, you officially have no reason to want to get older anymore. So, with that in mind, I'm sure I'm not saying anything here that you all haven't already thought on every birthday you've had for the last who knows how many years. That's not going to stop me from saying it though. I fucking hate birthdays! All they do is remind me that I've done jack shit with my life. I have now been alive for twenty-seven years and have absolutely nothing to show for it. Every year on my birthday I find myself wondering if I am any further along in my life than I was the previous year. Most years I find that, if anything, I have gone backward. To be quite honest, I'm fed up with it. By this time next year, I damn well better have made some sort of progress in my life! This year I AM going to get my shit together, no matter how much of a mess it is.

"It's gonna be a busy year." 

P.S. Sorry about the irregularity of my posts lately, and for the skipped posts. That is definitely one of the things on my list of  "shit that I need to get together."