It's the extra day that makes it special.

It was April 1, 2006. The first My Sick Mind post. I probably should have celebrated my Blogiversary yesterday, but I'm kinda strange. I think it was in memory of the last birthday that I had when I was married - 1994. Can I hold a grudge or what?

It was a Sunday. Those of you savants or calendar freaks can look it up. I'm not a big birthday guy, mostly because I don't have the people around to celebrate, but when you're married, you figure that there'd be at least some acknowledgement.

I remember getting up in the morning and waiting. You know that waiting. The waiting that you're figuring is going to have some little surprise at the end. Like when you watch the TV and they're picking the lottery numbers. But, like the lottery, the numbers wouldn't come out.

The in-laws showed up with a little gift. They were on their way to one of their camping trips and stopped by to let me know that it should be a happy birthday. I don't remember what the gift was, but it doesn't matter. They stopped by on their way to someplace.

For the record, the parents always liked me more than their daughters. I suppose it's because I always had a job, called them by Mister and Missus and knocked before entering ... junk like that. The daughters wanted the danger and the parents wanted the security. It's a conflict that is never resolved to my satisfaction. But I digress.

I continued waiting. Once a few hours passed, I figured the waiting was fruitless and I abandoned it in lieu of a more stimulating activity. No, not that. I think I went to the gym. Get your mind out of the gutter.

When I returned, I figured there would be something waiting for me. Still waiting, because I'm funny that way. I think everybody remembers, especially when she's my wife. But once it started to get dark and there was nary a mention of my 38th birthday (I was 37 years old, but it was my 38th birthday - you figure it out), even my most optimistic side became dark and brooding. That'll happen to the best of us.

The day (and night) passed without a mention of the day. I began to question myself. Is today really the 16th of October? I checked the calendar, because I'm not always that sure. Yep. We had been together since 1988, and every year since, the day had failed to pass without something extra special, but that day was an exception.

The following day, when I got home from work, there was a small wrapped box waiting for me when I got home. Surprise! You're 37 and a day. Inside was an Eagles T-shirt, that I had reasoned was the first thing she saw upon entering the K-Mart. I put it back in the box and went on about my day.

On May 11, 1995 - when she was 33 and a day, I gave her an equally nonchalant gift, because I'm funny that way. I can't remember what it was, which is fitting because I didn't put much thought into it.

So, in honor of that auspicious occasion, which placed a period on the sentence that was my marriage, I celebrate April 2, 2008 as the 2 year and a day anniversary of this little social experiment.

Thanks for reading it. Don't buy me anything.