Day of Terror, Day of Doom

No, not really. Just my birthday, with its usual intimations of futility (and mortality, just because I'm a traditionalist.) Suddenly alone again, holidays are going to suck for awhile, though I must acknowledge that the presence of friends (some of whom treated me to a lovely feast last night), fulfilling work (teaching is a tonic to me, can't say why, but I'm not about to argue with it), and family helps a lot. Still, it would be nice to have this be the year in which I get The Job, just so I don't have to be staring at 40 (still a few years off, but still) and contemplating a life in which I have no *place*. But I'm resolved not to be gloomy. No, that's a lie. I'm going to be damned gloomy, and enjoy it. It's my party, and I'll sulk if I want to...