I. Don’t. Work. On. My. Birthday.
With only a few sad exceptions I always take my birthday off from work. I do this both because I DON’T WORK ON MY BIRTHDAY (you may have heard rumors to this effect) and also I really hate having to do the birthday celebration thing at work. It just always feels forced and awkward and also in my family really the rule is that you get to decide how your birthday goes. You get to decide. You get to pick the theme for the party and You get to buy the cake and You get to invite the guests and all these good things.
And yet? When they celebrate a birthday at work it pretty much never gets to be YOU who decides on the method of celebration. Like you should be spared that chore, which usually means that you get to stand around with people you’re not really friendly with (um, who is that guy over there? The one eating the entire slice of cake in one bite? Is it just me, or is he maybe a homeless guy? Anyone? Hellooo?), eating cake you don’t really like (Oh gosh, German Chocolate Carrot Cake with coconut frosting! Was there no vomit-flavored cake with turd frosting left in the bakery section?), having an inane conversation you’d just a soon avoid (no, I have never heard the story of how you got that scar there. Oh, I don’t know, how do you define “easily freaked out by stories about spurting blood”?). And if you don’t grin and bare it you’re considered ungrateful because here your co-workers went and did all of this FOR YOU. HAPPY F*CKING BIRTHDAY, JERK.
So me, I stay AWAY from work on my birthday.
This year was the best of all the stay-away-from-work-birthday years. Because this year the birthday? It fell on a Wednesday. You just don’t take a day off to celebrate how you didn’t die, even once, for another whole year and then go back to the job the very next day. YOU JUST DON’T! And if you’re gonna take two days off to celebrate the annual not dying does it really make sense to go back to the office for one day, just to head right back into a weekend? IT DOES NOT! Therefore, my peoples, the Wednesday birthday is just another way of saying FIVE-DAY-WEEKEND, BABY!!!
All hail the five-day-weekend. I’ll wait while you all hail it… (you. Behind Debuke. I don’t see you all-hailing. What, are you too GOOD to all hail the five-day-weekend? I thought not!)
Now, the epic five-day-weekend of not-dying goodness would have been 100% perfect if I’d had a shiny new (used, but whatever) car to drive around, which I did not (and more on that in the next post.). But even without that, the following things spiced up the great and powerful five-day-weekend:
- Baby’s first pedicure. SO SHINY! (there will also be more on THAT in a future post)
- naps on three different days!
- shopping, which netted me CDs, Books AND Clothing!
- All-You-Can-Eat Mongolian BBQ, which I like to call “Mongolia is trying to kill me with their non-stop food wonders. Make Mongolia stop.” And then I like to ‘splode with Mongolian food excellence.
- A bonus ladies day with the Queen and Risky where we remembered how awesome we are and made people around us wish they were us (especially with the beautiful feet!)
Right now? I SUPER-DUPER wanted to write to you guys.