In Which I Am an Over-Achiever

Yesterday was quite the day. Best Friend left, Ben had a birthday, and I was not feeling well. I am pretty sure it was a severe sugar hangover coupled with a sore throat and generally yucky feeling.

Source

 So, as you may expect, after a blow-out weekend with Best Friend in town, and feeling like Death's slightly warmer friend, Pestilence, I was not up for a big birthday celebration. Plus, Ben doesn't actually care about his birthday and forgot it was coming and didn't really want to do anything.

Nevertheless, I feel incredibly guilty that I didn't arrange something more exciting than curry on the couch watching the movie I bought him for his birthday. I feel like a bad wife for not planning in advance and making him excited about it (not that I've ever seen him excited about anything that wasn't architecture related, generally he only is slightly less ambivalent, and that's how you tell he's stoked about something). Worse, for my birthday, I got an engagement ring. For his? He got Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. And I know the thought of wearing jewelry creeps him out, so I couldn't get him the same thing, but those weren't even on par.

So, even though we are 10 months out from our spectacular-spectacular event, I am already practicing being a bad wife. How's that for over-achieving?