I just turned 27. Happily, I still feel too young to have a mid-life crisis. Nevertheless, birthdays remind us that we are always getting older and never younger, which is probably why they seem to become more depressing each passing year. Generally, I try to ignore my birthday and treat the day like any other. This is a somewhat difficult strategy to maintain in Germany, though. The Germans, at least in my opinion, like to celebrate birthdays. For instance, a typical birthday party includes food, often a full meal with dessert, and drinks, all paid for by the person having a birthday (which seems backwards to me, but who am I to question cultural norms). It is also quite common for the bday boy or girl to bring cake to work and then be congratulated for surviving another year. In our department, we keep track of everyone’s birthday, and shortly before the date, money is collected for a small gift. So, given that I would receive something from my colleagues and my cake obligations, it was impossible to ignore that it was my birthday.

That said, the day was pleasant and not really depressing. I even took care of something that I had avoided for months; I had a wart removed. Warts are caused by viruses. As a parasitologist, I realize and understand that my body is a suitable host for a number of creatures, but I got tired of serving as host for these bloody viruses. The wart was on my finger and removing it was an entirely inelegant procedure. The doctor gave me a numbing injection and then just tore it off, leaving a large hole in my finger. I had the feeling that I could have done the same thing if given enough whiskey and knife. Nonetheless, even I found the whole experience somewhat disgusting. To share that feeling, I posted the picture showing the aftermath of this operation. Gross.