I stopped feeling excited about my birthdays since, I think, 11.
I can actually count the number of cakes I have ever cut on my birthdays, most of which were shared with other birthday boys/girls.
I have no problem with birthdays, though. I only dreaded when there was transition of the first digit, ie from 10s to 20s, from 20s to 30s…
On the dot of the zero-hour of my 30th birthday, I was alone in my rented room, no celebration, no cake, and I cried like a miserable bloke.
I cried not because there wasn’t a birthday party, but was beating myself up for failing to become a millionaire by 30. Not to mention I was also troubled with all sorts of personal problems. I told myself, “I’ll be better when I turn 40.”
Fast forward to 10 years now. I still dread the transition from 30s to 40s, except this time I don’t have to feel lonely as I have my family with me. I don’t have to feel troubled as I have God with me. And I definitely have some big plans ahead of me!
Though, I’m still not a millionaire, but that doesn’t trouble me as much as it did. Because this time, I’m aiming to become billionaire! Muah ha ha…