Shhh. Can’t talk. Busy.
Um, 41? I’m here. I mean, a few days late, but I was busy traveling, there were teens, and ants, it was a whole thing. I know I should have greeted you last Friday, but I’m here now!
Look, I’m busy. I know you’re chronically late, but if you can’t bother to show up for your own birthday, then I have to shoulder the burden. Do you know what I have been dealing with the past two days?
YOUR problems? My new car is infested with ants. ANTS. Little evil things that crawl ON YOU while you’re DRIVING. That really should give me a bye in any situation.
Psh. I’m juggling your trip prep, your FOUR projects you have in infancy, and trying to keep your monstrous self-esteem issues at bey. I’m standing here, clad in leather and blood, my dripping sword held at the ready, having just done battle with your insecurities, and you complain about ants?
Yes I complain about ants! They’re tiny and gross and there are a billion of them in my car. My new car. My brand new – not “new to me;” this car is so damn new it shouldn’t exist yet, it’s a 2015 – car.
…Are you done?
All right. Enough with the ants. I’m late and i’m sorry. Yes there are many projects in infancy and I love them all. I have to decide which ones to move forward on with my agent, which ones to self publish, and, horror of horrors, which ones to trunk because they just won’t work. And I have to decide this week because I’m traveling soon. Big decisions.
You have to grow the fuck up.
I have to grow the fuck up. Yes. I bought a Honda* (affordable! reliable! fun to drive!) instead of a MINI Cooper (AWESOMELY FUN TO DRIVE, and, um, unreliable. Expensive). I received disappointing news about a project (code name Epic Fantasy Baseball) and it didn’t destroy my world the way news like this usually does. I even have been exercising more often than not in the past month. I’m working on this growing up thing. I’m really trying.
Really? Bad project news for EFB? And you took it in stride?
Well. I’m proud of you.
Does that mean you’ll talk to me? Give me advice this year? Have my back?
Of course. I’m prime, aren’t I?
You are. So let’s try again. Hullo, 41.
*Which is now infested with ants. Did I mention the ants?