February

How quickly came January. And here we are, February.

I have a love-hate relationship with February simply because it is my birth month. I remember when I was a young girl, I hated coming to class on my birthday because I felt embarrassed every time my teacher asks me to stand up in front of the class so they could sing a “happy birthday.” At my young age, I’ve developed the thought that birthdays were the time of the year when the world puts you under a microscope and for the six-year-old little girl, standing in the middle of a big classroom was the easiest way to turn her into the small bit of specimen in this big world.

I’ve been constantly haunted by this thought every birthday – no fail! And twenty something years later, this microscope became myself, the greatest and most powerful microscope one could ever have.

The thought of an approaching birthday makes me anxious, especially that I am my own competition, the toughest at that. My birth date is my year-end review of how much I’ve saved in the bank; what a daughter, girlfriend, and friend, I have become. It is also a reminder of my ticking clock – the house that I want to buy (or could have bought), the number of kids I want to have, the retirement fund that I want to get started (or could have gotten started).

It is FEBRUARY 1 today and in a few more days, I’ll be in my last line-of-two. Hell, it sends electric shocks into my every nerve.

Disclaimer: I don’t normally rant but the twenty effin’ NINE is badass.