A Birthday Dinner is What They Call It…

I’m not sure what I expected.  Well… actually, I guess I am.  Spent time, allotted time, time parceled-out.  That’s more like what it was.

It was having a Birthday Lunch with my daughter Robin.  Maybe I expect too much.  Perhaps I should change around the saying of “under-promise, over-deliver” to “under-expect, over-receive ?”

Or perhaps to “under-expect, be satisfied with whatever I get ?”

Well… that doesn’t work either.  After something like this, my mind usually goes to the closet and takes out the pity-whip.  I then use it on myself… perhaps telling myself without knowing it… that the emotional pain I got is what I deserved… because I was only “thinking of myself” instead of thinking of others.

I always think of others.  But once in a great while, I guess I make that horrid mistake of hoping that it just might be “my turn.”

Of course… after the bawl is over… I tell myself that that’s what I get for thinking of myself again.  But really… when IS is my turn ?  Or, do I even GET a turn ?

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