Ok, world. You don’t like me and I don’t like you.
(World meekly pipes up “I like you”)
Once a year, on our birthday, everyone wishes us a “Happy Birthday” and poses a horrifying, paralyzing question to us.
“What are you gonna do?”
“What are you doing for your birthday?”
And they want an answer.
This is a level beyond casual weather conversation which can be brushed off by a “crazy, right? It’s raining needles filled with heroin in July? Global warming.”
It’s beyond “What are you doing this weekend.”
What are you doing on the day that simultaneously represents your beginning and ending?
What are you gonna do?