No real deviation from my usual Monday, save for the much appreciated, well-wishing text messages from 3 different countries, and scanning a drum instructional book to my mom's PC laptop because I haven't yet found a scanner driver for the fruit.

That said PC decided minutes ago to do a celebratory crash and send all 60-odd PDFs (which took a minute and a bit to scan each) down some binary abyss.

.... really, what can I say about Microsoft reliability that hasn't been said already?

Anyway.

There's always going to be that step up into twenty-one-ness and beyond. There will be that bit greater an expectation of responsibility. And probably, just probably, an inkling of a feeling that I've grown up. I will achieve more. I will be a better person. I will... whatever. But by the end of the week I will most probably be stressing over the same things that drove me nearly nuts last week.

This is part of the reason why I no longer want to celebrate my own birthdays. It near as makes no difference, apart from being another biological clock mile-marker. Somehow everyone else's birthdays just seem more special.