Every year my birthday feels less and less like a special day... and more and more like just any other day. I remember as a child how important my birthday always was to me. It just felt magical. Lately though, with each passing year, I wonder why anyone over the age of 18 even bothers to celebrate getting another year older. Perhaps this is my cynical outlook on life speaking loudly. It is just funny to me how I can be so excited and gung-ho about my children's birthdays and view my own as a non-event.
An even stranger phenomenon are the people who did remember to say "Happy Birthday" to me versus the people who did not. I guess everyone feels the way that I do about December 13. Just another day.