You Say It's Your Birthday? It's My Birthday Too. Yeah.

My last two birthdays were great. Phenomenal in fact. Great things happened and I couldn't imagine being happier.

This year? Meh.

Technically I don't KNOW what my birthday is going to be like this year since it's a few hours away yet.

What I DO know is that I'm indeed feeling pretty meh about it.

There's something very disconcerting about reaching the age at which your mother passed from this world. You know, had my Mom been 95 or something I don't think I'd mind it so much. 95, I'd sure as hell be happy and celebrating.

But my Mom wasn't 95.

She was 49. Forty-nine years, two months and twenty days to be exact.

The next time I wake up, provided I'm blessed to do so, I too will be 49 years old.

How did that happen? It snuck up on me. Partially in the way it sneaks up on most I imagine. For me though, there's the added element of being the age my mother was when all of a sudden, she wasn't.

I've been dreading it for I don't know how long. It may even have started the day she died. I don't know.

For all I know, you're probably already thinking I'm nuts and that being the same age as my mother was has nothing to do with anything. And you may well be right. That's because you are a normal person with rational thinking.

Me? Not so much.

I have irrational thinking. In this case, being that I'm the age my mother was, I need to "get my house in order" because I'm not long for this world.

No shit. That's serious business.

It's been incessant since last year. Thinking about this year.

I've dreaded it so much that when asked about my age I've skipped 49 entirely and told people "I'm gonna be 50." Really? I'm going to age myself a year to avoid the year that is the age that my mother passed at? Who does that?

Me. That's who.

That's just one example of how deeply messed up I am. It's literally been incessant. I don't remember a time I wasn't at least partially thinking about it.

It's also been a rough year in the real world. You know, the one where you rational thinking people live.

I'm not even going to bore you or myself to tears detailing the particulars of 2014 being Murphy's Year; I'll just do a quick Wambulance run by: On my birthday I decided to open a business. Opened business. Kris' Mom got sick. Stuff broke. Extra kids in the house. My aunt (my Mom's only sister) gets sick. With Kris traveling to Racine regularly and me traveling to Appleton, money went flying out the windows. Lasted till fall. My aunt died. Kris Mom got better. Then worse. Then her Dad started having problems. Things were getting behind. Closed business. Took care of my aunt's funeral and probate.  Blah, blah and blah-bitty blah. Worked, plotted, planned and fortunately got the windows closed on the money mobile.

So I deal with that stuff on top of my irrational thinking and well, it's been a rough year. But, not without it's good moments that actually made the bad one's worth it. But the presumed 49 curse has continued to loom.

Now all of a sudden it's here.

49.

In all it's grim-reapery glory.

I am an irrational thinker. Not an idiot. I know the odds of that are like 1 in some number we haven't even counted to yet. Tell that to an irrational mind.

All year long the old "get your house in order" crap tormenting me.

Especially while I was doing it.

Oh yeah. I've been getting sh*t in order. Scaling things down, getting rid of things I didn't need, eliminating debt, making the budget manageable and all of it.

Thinking of all the places I'd like to see, things I'd like to do, things I've done and would like to do again.

49 has paralyzed me. I can't find time to do anything, I avoid things that aren't important. I am aware of every single ache and pain and what it could be. Keep in mind, I don't have an irrational fear that 49'll get me in the same manner as my Mom. That's easy. I could just quit driving.

Nope, I've got a preliminary list of, ah, two, three things based on different symptoms that I have experienced. It's reliable information. See, I use the Mayo Symptom Checker. Not WebMD. That's garbage. More ad's than information. Very poor platform their website is running on also. Nobody even knows who these people are. The guys that pop up and offer to chat about your ailment with the big banner that says "I'm a doctor, ask me a question!", yeah they mostly look like doctors, but so did Marcus Welby.

If you want good, reliable information you have to go to the Mayo Symptom Checker. This is a class operation. Real medical facility. Rated quite well as a matter of fact. Nice campus too I might add.

It starts off just like a doctor. What's the trouble? Well then it keeps getting symptoms from you until it narrows it down to one or two completely innocuous things it could be and maybe three or four "hey get your ass to a doctor" things it could be.

Ok, now some will argue that 99% of the time it's only showing the serious stuff because you have one minor thing that could indicate that. That's rational thinking.

Me? Nope. One symptom of anything that shows up under "could be deadly" and I'm a freakin' goner.

Now guess what? 49 didn't do this to me.

I've thought like this everyday of my life as long as I can remember and I swear it is maddening.

So if 49 didn't do that maybe the rest is all BS too?

Nah. That'd be rational thinking.

Maybe I have been "getting my house in order" just because the older I get the less clutter I like? Maybe I'm just becoming simpler in what I need and want?

Nah. That'd be rational thinking.

I can't tell you how happy I was when my band played the other night and I had very little to haul. When we started 5 years ago I had a Suburban packed front to back with gear. A couple years later I could get it all in a mini-van. Then half a mini-van.

I've been downsizing for years. Maybe I was subconsciously preparing to let myself take it easy as I get a bit older?

Nah. That'd be rational thinking.

Maybe the Mayo Symptom Checkers first guess is the right one? Gas.

Nah. Then I'd have been scared to death of a fart.

Maybe I just think too much?

Nah. That'd be rational thinking.

It occurs to me as I write that, life makes us think about death. Death makes us think about life.

Maybe, just maybe, 49 is the place where those two schools of thought intersect for a moment in time.

Nah. That'd be rational thinking.

**UPDATE** My birthday went great, nice and low key just like I wanted. But that's not say there was nothing great or phenomenal. Indeed there was.

I, me- the hack writer- entered a writing contest. 

That's my birthday present.

I'll keep you posted.