Lucky.

So, yesterday was my birthday. I officially feel like I’m getting old, I feel like it’s all downhill from here. Or maybe that’s the hang over talking.

The majority of yesterday was pretty wonderful. My crazy (in a good way) roommate threw glitter at me while I was still in the shower and put up balloons all over the apartment. She also baked me a cake later that night. She really is a very sweet person. She also thoroughly amused me after she got home from a party she went to last night ("Ron Burgundy makes my neck hurt."). I found out that one of my classes should be even easier than I thought, but I should actually be able to learn something useful out of the class. I am an official resident of SC, although the DMV experience was not all that fun. Some of my friends took me out and bought me dinner and drinks. It was fun. 

Now for the part that makes me worry. Greg was supposed to come out with us last night, so I texted him a little while after he was supposed to have gotten off work. He called 15 minutes later to tell me he couldn’t make it. He sounded awful. He totaled his squad car, but told me he was fine, but had a mountain of paper work to fill out. Naturally, I got a little upset (about the potential of him getting hurt, not that he wasn’t come out), and worried that he was sugar coating it because of the fact that it was my birthday. I let it go, and went to dinner. As I was leaving the restaurant he finally got out of work and told me what happened. Asked me not to cry, but he was lucky he was still alive. And that he didn’t want to ruin my birthday, that he’d give me my present tomorrow, etc. Eventually I got my point across that I didn’t really give a shit that he wasn’t there on my birthday, but I was happy that he was ok and not dead. (Dead boyfriend? Yeah, that might ruin my birthday.) He wouldn’t let me come over and see him. I’ll see him tonight. I’m assuming that he must be fine since he got to go home last night. But still. Still worried.