HAPPY BIRTHDAY....to me.

Well, it seems another year has gone by. What is it about being a kid that makes time seem like its crawling by? What is it about being an adult that makes it seem that you never have enough time? Sick, really.
I am now 33 years old and rather look forward to see what "rolling doubles" will bring. It did not start off so fantastic, though. "Let me explain...No, there is too much. Let me sum up."
My day started by waking up with enough time in the day to go back to sleep. I work the night shift, see, so I was already destined to be disgruntled. However, during my waking hours (between 11am and 2pm) to go to ASIANA for an all-you-can-eat buffet for FREE...that's right...FREE (screw you, Denny's) lunch (with my I.D., of course). I gorged myself into a food coma and drifted off to sleep - as a beached whale does- for the next few hours.
Waking up was a completely different misery. What time is it? Where am I? What time is it? Is it day? Who am I. Shut up, where's the coffee? So, after 3.5 cups of coffee, I felt more apt to tackle my next obstacle - getting dressed. I donned my scrubs with cat hair on them, slapped on some make-up in hopes to hide the pillow face that I had, and trudged out the door. It was now 6:30pm. More than half my birthday has been spent in bed. Swell.
I arrived at work at 7:30pm and didn't feel like telling anyone it was my birthday. I held out for a whole hour. I was provoked to anger (as I usually am at work) and exclaimed, "Why would it be any different today!? Happy FREAKIN' birthday to ME!" So, somehow the cat was out of the bag. A few people remembered, actually. They gave me a card and a cheesecake. There was also some Tylenol to cure the sugar and caffeine crash that would occur later. Too bad it didn't cure the stupid people I work with.
Midnight came and went. I had missed my own birthday. But what does it matter anyway? It's just a day, right? An uneventful, usual, mundane day.
WHATEVER. Everyone else was working, too, so there would be no outing. Thursday came and went. Friday morning arrived and my shifts were done. I had a friend coming for the weekend and all of us were to go out on Satufday and celebrate the menagerie of birthdays that were around the same time.
Saturday. Lazy. Bored. Rainy. I went out to dinner and agreed to meet people after for drinks. Noone was returning my calls...except Sarah who was to be waiting for me at my house. Nothing out of the ordinary there, but no one else was returning my calls. As I waddle in the door from stuffing myself like an Ogre at dinner - unmotivated to go to Hannah's and smell like smoke and fries - I am greeted by Sarah and Kelly who inform me that my cat's have left a "present on my bed".
SON OF A..."Are you serious? That's perfect. Perfect.", as I take off my 4 inch heels getting ready for a rumble, "Im gonna kick some furry ass!" As I stomp to my room to scope the damage, I open the door slowly to try to catch them in the act. As the door opens, I see bed and someone who just jumped out and said, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY". Still concerned with cat crap, it didn't click right away. Suddenly there's 20 people in my bedroom yelling and screaming. Beer is flying everywhere (great), balloons are popping, there's a kid screaming from the excitement...and then there's me.... I think I sharted. No, not really, but I could have. Stunned I was. Amazed that it could be pulled off. My friends admitted to not calling due to an inability to lie (on the short term). There it was. My first surprise party. EVER. With much appreciation, it will go down in the HISTORY OF RAD in my life. Thanks, guys.