I think, as a mere curse from some celestial presence with a death wish, I have the worst headache ever attributed to a living human being.
Not that I'm complaining.
Wow. I'm an hour away from eighteen, and I couldn't care less.
Really.
I have a tidy sum of work ahead of me in the coming week/two weeks.
Better start resting. Tomorrow shall prove an exertion of great effort on my part, as I have no doubt that the date in history shall fall away, highlighted no further than any other day in history, and certainly unannounced by those I hope will remember it.
No one ever remembers your birthday when it's the first day after vacation.
Ever.
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