The Big B-Day

Woohoo, let the bells ring out, I'm another year older and closer to death. Today is the anniversary of my arrival from the womb, and what a corker of a day it is.
Naturally, I am at work, and nobody even knows that it's my birthday here, which is exactly how I planned it. My kids know, and they're handling it the way kids always do: bafflement that you aren't as excited as they are on their birthdays, and peevishness that you can do all of the things that they only wish they could, but you'd rather spend the day in bed with the covers pulled up over your eyes. Oh, they've come up with the requisite cheerful presents and handmade cards and earnest wishes for many happy returns of the day (as if you hadn't had enough reruns of this particular milestone by now!), but mostly they just think that I'm handling it badly.
God, they tell each other, eyes rolling until they almost fall out, he's always so unhappy and mean. What's his problem?
Well, lambkins, my problem is that I am saddled with overwhelming debt which I cannot pay or bankruptcy away, there is literally no place or way to escape my constant worries, and to add to that, I keep having these weird chest pains that I know (deep down) are just acid reflux, but when they do that travel-down-my-left-arm thing, they get me a bit anxious, too.
Oh, I know, I'm doing that depressive stick-in-the-mud thing again, too. How boring.
Anyway, not only is today the dreaded celebration of my nativity, but tomorrow is my wedding anniversary. Why it's the day after my birthday is a long, long story, but suffice it to say that it showed very poor planning with regard to the way the observation of birthday/anniversary/deathwish from a cash point of view. I am so broke from taxes, children's birthdays, bills, and trying to find a whole new car for the same price I'd normally pay for one tire. I can't afford to celebrate, and I don't want to. I just want all of this part to be over.
Do you think that's wrong?