I've come to the conclusion that I'm just not as enthusiastic about birthdays as I was when I was 10. Maybe I'm just outgrowing it, but I now seem to pretty much mentally associate birthdays with a vague disappointment at not getting the presents I wanted, even though I'm not seriously surprised at this, and having to interact with people, which I also don't consider to be particularly positive. Add that to the sleep-shit and the depression-shit and it's just ... y'know ... shit in general.
So, uh ... yeah, I don't even know what to say here. 28, woo. There's really nothing else to say here, except that I had lunch with my mom and stepdad at an Italian restaurant downstairs from where I live, and had pretty much the best crème brûlée we'd ever had, so that was good. I've just been waiting for all this business to be over. So this post is now over.