Today is my birthday. So far it’s been a completely normal day, which is a good thing. I had a pretty heavy weekend with work, my parents, the rugby and the Superbowl, and was drinking for 14 hours yesterday :|, so I don’t think I could have handled another exciting one today.
In any case I’m noticing that birthdays are becoming less of a big deal as I get older. I’m genuinely not bothered if I do anything or not tonight, and I wasn’t excited about it at all. It’s my first birthday away from home, though, which is a bit new. This year and last year have been pretty big years for celebrations in the family though. My cousin and I were 18 last year and my sister and my other cousin were 21, and this year my brother’s 18 and my mum’s 50, and my dad’ll be 60 next year.
It’s a little strange how we comemmorate events like birthdays. It’s not like I’m a year older today than I was yesterday, and it’s just a day like any other if I’m perfectly honest. And in the words of Pink Floyd I’m just one day closer to death. Woo! It’s strange how we mark the passage of time purely for the sake of it.
It makes me wonder when birthdays became the norm. There was undoubtedly a point when the calendar and dates were invented, and before that it would have been somewhat impossible to have a birthday. Time would just pass, unmarked by human hands.
But then I suppose if you look at it another way, you are literally supposed to be celebrating your birth. But nothing you do on your birthday has anything to do with your birth, it’s just more of a general celebration. We humans are strange creatures.