I am slowly experiencing the beauty of living alone via my summer rental. It's not until I experienced it, that I realized how much I prefer it.

I am so sick of people in my space. I can never just watch TV alone. I can never leave my apartment without having to say goodbye and chit chat. I can never walk in and not have to make small talk. I an't just turn off the phone, because it might be for someone else.

I may have to wait to use the microwave, or to get to counterspace to chop vegetables. Sometimes I have to wait to get into a bathroom. I have to ooh and ahh over someone else's purchases when I can't afford to shop.

There's never a chance to stay home and relax by by myself because there's either another person here or a person asking me where I am going or why I'm not going out.

And don't get me wrong, I think my roommates and friends are great, but I need space.

All day long I am "on" for clients and co-workers. I am smiling and working and interacting with hordes of people. When my work is done, the thought of one last smile and one last conversation is irritating. Incredibly irritating.

My birthday is next week. People are making plans for me when I tell them I have no plans. I have a hard time telling friends and family that I don't want to make plans because they make me feel like I am ruining their party.

I hate that. Maybe I just want to be left alone? Maybe I don't feel like celebrating my birthday. Maybe I feel like a failure for not knowing how to relocate with no savings and I am making myself miserable with the thought of staying in New York for another summer of heinous commuting via bus with the dregs of society to my happy place.

Maybe I want to sit at home alone and have a pity party for myself and cry and sleep and do nothing productive.

And then maybe my birthday will come and I will be home alone in my apartment feeling sad that I didn't do anything to commemorate it.

My birthday is 6 days away. So begins the annual week of depression and self-loathing. It's so predictable yet happens every year. As much as I try to psyche myself out of it, they are already playing in my head.

The Birthday Blues. I hate that f*cking song.

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