As I write this I am sat at work, it is 10.30pm.
I am listening to a man test the PA system in the museum.
He is counting.
He just got to 47 then decided to start again, I wonder why, maybe he is afraid of 48, maybe it's his next birthday.
I was born in January, a truly pitiful time of year. Next year however I say farewell to winter depression, hello Summertime celebration.
Yes I moved my birthday, now I won't get older until July which reduces my real age by 6 months (not the reason I did it but a nice bonus).
In reality someone I love died the day before my birthday and it just made the whole thing a little too sad.
Most friends still think I'm joking, others feel I'm an imposter (they have real summer birthdays and treat me like I don't belong).
Some other January birthday folk are a bit jealous and want to join me but don't want to appear insane....
Message to them: Come on in, the waters warm!
Today's happiness: Talking about getting a siamese kitten.
