It's my birthday and nobody thinks of me
It's my birthday and nobody thinks of me, in principle I think that's good, because I must not blame me if I forget the birthday of my friends. But since there is only one small problem: I do not forget their birthdays. Gibbs not his, even though I only briefly with a Happy Birthday Boss receive 'in the office and gave him a extra large cup of coffee serve and not Kate, who I have a large bouquet of her favorite flowers to celebrate the rich over night. She is happy is not really about because they know where I where I know her lover Lung flowers and their favorite florist. Regardless, I think and how they say? The thought counts. I can not help it that they constantly their notebook or PDA you can be lying around everywhere, it's already a request to look into it. But no, she moves on again, but they should take better care of their things.
And then Bambinos birthday, how could I forget this truly significant day because I have not organized the last time the best party of his life? And as he thanks me? Not at all, I do not even get a card. I would still have over such a simple, inexpensive piece of cardboard happy, but no one has thought of it. Not even Abby, even though it for her birthday one - has received beautiful flowers - at least in their eyes. But even a couple of black roses, I would have been delighted at the moment, but nothing that I do not even get some weed I. And Ducky? He can remember everything that occurs to him to every small case of any story, but he also forgot my birthday.
And my family, or rather my father has not also thought of it. Yet all have to think a minute of it. How do I know so exactly? I sit on the cold tile in my bathroom, staring at the digital clock, which hangs next to the sink, and realize that it is clock 23:59. So as I said a minute. But somehow my inner voice tells me that no call will ring or come storming into my apartment is. Even a burglar would give me some variety, but no, not even come because they know that lives in this house, a federal agent with a gun. Now I'm sitting here wondering what am I doing? Why did I ever elected to the job and yet not have become a businessman, so it was like my father from me? But all I'm just on my nerves, it would be better without me turn, would maybe more and would create a quieter, more enjoyable work. I sink into my gloomy thoughts, but I leave the second hand of my clock is not out of sight. Soon it is time. Only five four, three, two, one ... the time has come, my birthday is over, no one has thought of me. This is a sign that I'm all matter. I'm lonely, abandoned, even though I used to always do so much. But a Anthony DiNozzo is not always strong, can not always and at any time before all that hurt him to shield it to play with his own way. I seem to have also made it perfect because no one drew suspicion, no one seems to know how it really in me looks like. Not even Abby, who else noticed every little change in me. I am master of this game and although I have reached my goal, I have lost. I wished that my wall would be broken by someone, that someone would recognize my true, vulnerable self. But I hid it well. Again, I look at the clock, one minute after midnight.
There's no point in self-pity to drown, that everything I've finally brewed themselves. I torture me up and go to the sink to give me some water to splash in the face. This bit of cool water immediately raises my being and I decide me to go forward to the work. If I were to go to bed now, namely, I'd overslept and only then should bear Gibbs a bad mood all day.
end
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