Judging a year by its cover

If the beginning of the year is an omen for the rest of the year, then I best tap out now.
Why? The beginning of 2010 was spent walking the long way home after having an argument with my boyfriend, who threatened to pack his bags and leave as soon as he was sober.
Good-o.

My work has been lovely enough to give me five hours of work in the first week of the new year. Which means that we will be living on $150 a week for the next two weeks. Why they've decided that the weeks after christmas don't need any staff bar the bare bones working, who knows.

I had my birthday a week or so ago. Only one of my friends remembered. Fuck me that hurt. You'd think at 26 you'd be over that kind of, um, popularity contest I guess. But I wasn't. What hurt wasn't that I didn't have all these birthday wishes on facebook or twitter, but that my closest friends, bar one, didn't even send me a text message. Just nothing. They say friends are the family you choose for yourself- I'm obviously not good at picking them.

It also looks like my depression has returned. I had been fine for months and months, but it seems like the whole birthday saga has stirred up lots of long-buried emotions, which have caused me to retreat back into my shell. I can be angry, I don't talk much, and my libido has goooooone. Bah.

My boyfriend, although caring and loving, doesn't seem to understand how deep birthday-gate (hah!) has affected me. Maybe it's just a girl thing? Who knows.

So, 2010, what have you got for me, huh? I hope to god the beginning isn't a reflection of the rest of the year. And if it is? I'll be goin' down swinging, baby.