Actually, it was my birthday a couple of days ago.
But it seems like no one remembers my birthday except for myself.
I seem to be someone with a weak sense of existence.
Ordinary and unremarkable.
At the age of adulthood, my days are just like those of millions of people working hard.
A monotonous routine.
Even more boring than most of them, actually.
I just hope to settle down early and not let my parents worry.