My Birthday Got Coup'd

A Gen-Xer's Guide to Sharing a Birthday with an Insurrection

So there I was, planning my 46th birthday celebration in 2021, thinking the biggest drama would be whether to order burgers or Italian, when suddenly my birthday became a case study in American Democracy Gone Wild™. Talk about party crashers – I didn't even get to pick the theme!

But hey, I'm not letting a bunch of cosplay revolutionaries steal my thunder. After spending decades as a corporate drone, dutifully feeding the capitalist machine and making middle-aged men in bad suits richer, I finally had my "come to Jesus" moment in 2021. And no, it wasn't watching Buffalo Guy strut through the Capitol – it was losing both my parents in quick succession. Nothing like death to make you realize you're wasting your life in endless Zoom meetings about meetings about meetings.

Suddenly all those TPS reports (yes, I'm making Office Space references – I'm 50, remember?) had all the significance of a Netflix password in a monastery. So I did what any self-respecting Gen-Xer would do: I updated the resignation letter that sat in my drafts folder for months, marinating like a fine wine or that forgotten Tupperware at the back of the office fridge.

When I finally hit "send" on that resignation email, I swear I heard the ghost of my corporate future screaming – or maybe that was just my coworkers realizing they'd have to figure it out on their own without my backup. The HR exit interview was shorter than a TikTok video, which is fitting because my entire career there felt like one long practical joke anyway.

Starting my own business in 2022 was like jumping out of a plane and building a parachute on the way down – while also trying to figure out why everyone's suddenly into sourdough bread. But here's the thing: January 6th was my day first. Before it became a Wikipedia entry that future history students will have to memorize, it was just another winter day when people celebrated birthdays, got married, or made questionable decisions about bangs.

So here I am at 50, reclaiming my birthday from the jaws of historical infamy. Because while some folks were busy taking selfies in places they definitely shouldn't have been, I was busy planning my great escape from corporate purgatory. And let me tell you, my insurrection against the status quo has a much better success rate – plus, significantly less bear spray.

To my fellow January 6th birthday warriors: May your cake always be sweeter than sedition, and may your candles burn brighter than democracy almost did. At least we'll always have an interesting answer to "So, what did you do on your birthday that year?"