At some point last year, I was commanded by the megalomaniacal, social media extravaganza to confirm my identity and provide my birthday.
Saying to myself that I would do no such thing, I entered my birthday as January 1, 1990. The flaw in identity circumvention wasn't apparent until January 1 when I received multiple birthday wishes and several assurances that this was not indeed my birthday.
Unfortunately, this is not the only birthday error I've made. During a particularly horrible transition to single motherhood, I went an entire year thinking I was one year older than I was.
I didn't realize it until a friend, born during the same year, was with me registering for something and found it hilarious that I had added rather than deducted a year.
Well any excuse for birthday cake! Oh and conical hats. You can never get enough conical hats.
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