People who know me know that as much as I appreciate celebrations and ceremonies as an important aspect of healthy human society, I’m a poor participant and the last person you’d want of to instigate such an event.
Which is why, over the years, days like today have turned out to be a bit of an anti-event for me. I’d try to avoid these sorts of things, and make comments like “I wish I could go to sleep the day before, and wake up the day after” (the wifey says: true story).
After 28 though years, I’m slowly realizing that it isn’t the actual day that I fear, but the anti-climaticism* of the day after, which scales according to how much fun the actual day was. This sentiment was far more pronounced in my primary school years, when #2202 would land smack in the middle of my mid-terms, and usually on a school night. Imagine that, Chinese-Malaysian student going out to Pizza Hut for dinner with family on a school night, during exam period.
Oh boy.
All I can say is, gosh I’ve come a long way, and how blessed I am to have the people that I have around me. At the rate that I’m going, I’m destined to be one of those stuffy old farts who tells you “Making friends is for youngsters. You stop making friends after <insert figure inversely proportionate to cynicism>“. Indeed I have, but somehow, it hasn’t stopped a handful of outrageous beings from reaching out to me and wiggling their way into my life.
The gifts, card, messages, gestures, tweets have made my day, and the impending school-night dinner will top it off beautifully.
While there are still traces of dread of the dip that tomorrow may bring, I’m going to be present, and grateful.
Happy #2202 to me, come what may.
* Speaking of anti-climaticism, I once thought, how cool it would be to celebrate 22-02-2222, until I realized I’ll have to wait over 200 years.