Today is my birthday

And I don't feel like celebrating. It was not a happy occasion after all. Oh sure, maybe for my parents it was. They got a beautiful baby boy, the son they always wanted, the son my two older sisters failed miserably at being. So I can understand why they would feel like having a party. But not me. For me it was the worst day of my life. Up until that point I had it made. I had free room and board in the swankiest part of town. Not a care in the world. I didn't even have to get up to go to the bathroom ffs. And then on this day 45 years ago I was unceremoniously evicted, actually more like ejected, with no forewarning whatsoever. I tried to reason with my landlord, held out for 16 hours actually, but in the end she paid some big brute to physically manhandle me and forcibly remove me from my digs. As you would imagine I screamed bloody murder but they couldn't care less.
Ever since then it's been down hill. I've had to learn to fend for myself, and I've never been able to return to that bliss I once had.

Nope, I am not happy about this. I will have some cake and ice cream today, but not in celebration dammit. I will eat the cake and the ice cream in the hopes that it will console me on this horrible, horrible day.

Happy birthday indeed. Sigh.