Birthday or is it Though?

Tomorrow. I'll be 25. I haven't talked it up. Somehow it doesn't really seem like a big day. My mom cares. I like it that she does, but other than that, who really cares? I think once I went to college my birthday no longer mattered. It's just this day in the summer. It will be a rainy day in TX.

It might be that I have a job now. My birthday is on a Wednesday. I have two more days until the weekend so that I may "observe" it properly. Just an FYI: that doesn't mean going out and getting sloshed, but more likely sleeping in and laying in front of the TV with loads of DVDs... my how times have changed.

I wish I had some true blue college friends here or at least someone willing to veg in front of the TV with me. A birthday with a DVD and a glass of wine. That's a good day.

The year of 25: I'm thinking allowing more people in will be good.

The sound of Monday

It's the sound of a dying cow. A languished, sad moo emanating from somewhere down a hallway. Really a dying cow?

No.

Just one of my bosses phone ring tone. It is listed as melancholy sax, as though a musical instrument has the right to sound like what I'd imagine a dying cow would sound like.

I'm not being morose. I don't sit around thinking about what sounds come out of different living animals as they die. The noise hit me a little off guard the first time I heard it and it has been the dying cow sound ever since.

The cow dies a lot on Monday.

It's sad, really.