It's my birthday, my b-b-b-birthday

It's my birthday today and I'm sitting here in the office with my double monitors and view of the pollen-covered parking lot. I've never had to work on my birthday before, but I've been taking a lot of sick days while I've been getting my medical issues sorted out, so I didn't want to use another personal day just yet.

It's not that bad: working on your birthday. Everyone in the office has been wishing me well, and I wouldn't have gotten that sitting at home in my jammies and watching bad TV. My boss canceled our morning meeting so I could sit at my desk and eat my breakfast, which was Italian leftovers. A coworker said I could pick whatever restaurant for lunch and he would pay, and he hardly complained when I said I wanted the wing place that leaves your mouth feeling like hot garbage.

I also skipped out of the office midmorning to go rent some movies for this weekend, sneaking back to my desk 30 minutes later. And then I did it again after a couple of hours of on-line shopping to try on a pair of pants when I didn't know what size I needed. My office is in the middle of the city's shopping mecca—every store I could possibly desire is less than a mile away. No one's really bothering me with any work, so I'm getting away with it.

That bad part is I'm sitting in front of the computer with the Internet in front of me and my credit card beside me. I've so far managed to justify $175 in birthday purchases to myself. And I still have two more hours left at work. But who knows, I may sneak out the back door a few minutes early.

Dinner last night was great. And by great, I mean anticlimactic, which was the best possible outcome. Family crisis averted. Tonight Scott is taking me to our restaurant, followed by going to 80's night at a club for some dancing. Tomorrow night I'm meeting up with the friends for some karaoke, and Saturday night we're having dinner with my mother and Scott's mother. They haven't met yet. Like how I slipped that in there?