It was my birthday yesterday.  A day on which I think of my mum because... well... she did do the whole "pushing me out of her vagina" thing... and a day on which I try to thank my previous selves for carrying on enough for me to exist now.  

I don't mean to sound morbid... I don't not like my birthday but I also don't not, not like my birthday.  I also don't not like double negatives...