So it’s my birthday, which means I’m not at work, because who the fuck wants to work on their birthday? Instead, I’m going to watch paint dry. Oh yes, this is SO much better.
Because Nick is working ridiculous hours lately, I decided to let him off the hook for feeling guilty about not spending lots of time on my birthday with me, and to go out and visit my parents in the afternoon & evening because I like them and I don’t see them often enough.
Then last week, we get a letter from the strata saying “pick either Sep 26 or Sep 29th to paint your door, or be fined by the strata and have to get it painted yourself. Oh yeah, and you have to leave the door open all day while it dries.” Well, Sep 26, we were out of town, so Sep 29th it is. Which means… I get to sit around at home and do nothing because I have a dog who can’t exactly be left alone with the door open. Although, she would make an excellent security system if anyone tried to break in walk in the open door.
And the irony? Well, it’s still my birthday, and by golly I am going to visit my parents this afternoon. So… Nick has to come home from work early, so he can have the second round of watching paint dry. Apply head to desk.
Well, we’ll spend the weekend together. His birthday is Sunday, so we stretch the celebrations out. And we’ve got our party on Friday! Yay, party! Note to self: Must hit up bakery. Need cake.
Happy birthday! Woo! Sorry I couldn’t ping you lst night, but you still live annoyingly far away. ;-)
Happy birthday, and welcome to the thirties club.