According to the letter I got from Parkhouse about redundancy, my date of birth is September 14th, 1976, which means it's my birthday on Wednesday. It's actually in October, but maybe I can use this as an excuse to have two celebrations.
Or maybe not. Turning 29 once is depressing enough, I'd rather not do it twice. Of course, next year is the real killer, but let's not think about that now. What I'm thinking is that I should have a party of some kind. I don't normally, so I probably ought to if only to repay the people who invite me to theirs. This flat isn't much of a party kind of place, though, being roughly the size of a smallish cupboard. Perhaps I could hire a place, but then maybe nobody would turn up and I'd look like some kind of Zoomy-No-Mates.
Oh, what the heck, I'll take the risk. I'll organise something tomorrow and invite even my most distant acquaintances, to avoid embarrassment.
No comments:
Post a Comment