The toss-up between 29 and 31

My 29th birthday was a pretty depressing affair. I won't go into details, but it was the loneliest day of my year that year. Competing for loneliest day of my life ...

My 31st might beat it for Worst Ever status.

I won't go into details about that either, except to say that at 11:30 p.m., I was taking a temper-tantrumish break from my late-running job to call my mom, very near tears, very much needing to talk to at least one friendly person on my birthday.

It didn't help that when she asked how I was doing overall and I assured her that I was quite, quite depressed overall, her advice was: "Now, now. Don't be depressed."

Sure. Let me just flip that switch ... Oh. Yeah. There isn't a switch ... Anyone got a spare happy pill?

I freaked out over 30. I just stayed curled up on the floor for 31. Good grief.