yesterday

was my birthday.  i did the corporate taxes, i started doing my mom's taxes (yes, they expect a dead woman to pay taxes - thanks, government!), worked for a few hours, and went to benhinana's.  where i had four mai tais, slipped on the fucking tile floor in my new shoes (with very new, very slippery heels - must remember to scuff shoes before wearing out), and had my first spicy tuna roll.

and loved it.  but i put a bit too much wasabi on one piece.  and cleared out my sinuses something fierce.

i also had green tea ice cream. which was really really really good.  and i ate A LOT of shrimp.  and apparently have some kind of onion hangover.  i can still taste the onions.  i think i'm getting too old for onions.

at 31, i think i'm too old for lots of things now.  i'm probably too old for skinny jeans and 4.5" heels.  i might be too old for rockin' cherry bomb red hair (or atomic pink, or hi-octane orange hair).  i could be too old for double nostril piercings, two lip piercings, and stretching my ears (at a 4g right now, contemplating the jump to 2 with fear).  i'm too old to be going for my first associate's degree.  i might be too old to love my chemical romance as much as i do, or listen to pop music.  i could be too old to have (and love) hermit crabs and hamsters (which i am no longer allowed to have).  i'm probably too old to watch almost exclusively cartoons (with some ghost hunters, deadliest catch, mythbusters, and news mixed in).

but at 31, i think i'm a bit too young to have high blood pressure.  i might be too young to have to worry about drastic lifestyle changes.  i could be too young to be falling asleep at 10pm.  i'm probably too young to be thinking about retirement savings (but you should start early, fyi.  really).  i'm too young to be selling a house.  i keep getting told by my doctors that i'm too young for a hysterectomy and too young for menopause (damn them).

i also think i'm too young to have had to plan my mother's funeral.  i might be too young to have to go through all her things and pack them up.  i could be a bit too young to handle all the responsibility of tying up loose ends, worrying about whether i got them all.  i'm probably too young to wonder whether or not i carried out her final wishes the way she'd have liked.  i might be too young to be planning to scatter her ashes at her childhood home (still owned by family) or planning a cruise to scatter some of her ashes at sea (like we did with my step-father).

i know that i'm too young to have celebrated a birthday without my mom.

it was my first birthday without her.  yesterday was the 101st day without my mom.  2,424 hours that she's not been with us, except for the remains of her physical body.  i had only 30 birthdays where my mom would say 'happy birthday!' in the morning, or call me to say it, or give me a card, or a hug, or a present.  and i'll never get those again.

and for possibly the first time since she died, i'm angry.  i'm fucking angry. 

i can't pack up her room because it still smells like her.  and i didn't get a hug for my birthday. 

i'm so fucking angry.