Cinco de Mayo

I definitely had intentions of writing this entry yesterday in the basking glow of my own birthday, but things were totally stacked against me. For the first time that I can recall, I was sick on my own stinking birthday, which really bums a birthday girl out, especially one who loves her own birthday as much as I do. See? I just mentioned "birthday" three times in one sentence. There's lots of love there.

I had walked in my neighborhood the night before where I inhaled many grassy, offensive smells. Between traveling to a foreign city, standing out in the freezing cold rain for two nights, and inhaling fresh cut grass, my body began to show signs of distress. My throat started to hurt right after the walk. To combat that, I quickly popped an Allegra, but I could tell it wasn't helping much. By the time I woke up to greet my birthday, I knew I was definitely sick.

I spent most of yesterday hiding behind my desk. I cringed each time the phone rang because the last thing I felt like doing was talking. Had my boss not made me a homemade strawberry cake, I would have called in sick. But even with the sick thing weighing over my day, so, so many people wished me a happy birthday. And I know I've said this before, but I swear I only know like three people on the planet. One of my friends bought me the famous Miss Muff'n strawberry cake as well. But because of my puny state, I didn't have any. I even postponed birthday celebrations, including the gift opening, which is my most favorite thing to do--get things. I spent the night on the couch in a somewhat delirious state of consciousness. I did recall the phone ringing a lot, but there wasn't a muscle in my body that responded or a brain cell for the matter. I did wake up to a slew of messages on my machine with more birthday wishes. All I have to say is that's it's nice to remembered and remembered well. So, thank you!