Rabbit Seasoning

I figured it out. It's birthday season. For me, that can be translated into feeling like Bugs Bunny holding the Rabbit Season sign while the world is Elmer Fudd with a cartoon shotgun. I deal with it with a series of misdirection and sidestepping while dealing with an internal mental dip. You'll never see it behind a curtain of false bravado and smiles, but I know it's there and if you look close, you'll see the cracks.

The 30th birthday book was the first omen. Then, last night, out of the blue, I got a series of texts from my ex entering me into a business trip bargument about the genuineness of Michael McDonald's voice. In the end, the guy who I was third party text arguing with conceded that I seemed like a good guy after I cited it was blue eyed soul and the Doobs never recorded a Motown cover album. So, I've got that going for me.

So, I'm aware of it and have my head in my lap assuming the crash position. I'll get through it, but it gets me every year. Last year it was easy. A small family dinner chased with some drinks with a red head a la Charlie Brown. I tried to dodge the drinks, but in the end met up with her. She meant well, but I was just going through the motions to feel like I wasn't completely alone. I don't even remember her name at this point.

This year is going to be better. I've got a haircut scheduled and then will jump into the rabbit hole until it passes. There's always music, books and movies to keep me occupied until it's over. The day after is always refreshing while I wear another ring around my trunk the next day and clean the dust off for the next year.