Escaped the Birthday Ad....I Think

Today was Friday for me. Taking off tomorrow and Monday and the ENTIRE weekend. I was being very good about keeping my birthday quiet. Dennis in circulation asked me yesterday if I had celebrated my birthday yet and I told him it was none of his business and if he mentioned it to anyone he was a dead man. So I was concerned but no one said anything. My instincts told me I was lulling myself into a false sense of security.

My husband threatened to send a stripper. I told him I'd rather have chocolates - unless it was either Vincent D'Onofrio or Johnny Depp or....well, let's just leave it at those two for now, I was not interested in seeing any naked men. And besides, it would remind them that my birthday was coming up!!!

Didn't need to be in the office until about noon. I walked in and saw no signs. Those embarrassing signs that say "Everyone Wish Marsha a Happy 50th Birthday!" or "Guess How Old Marsha Is! Ask her!" and other things we do normally. I was feeling a sense of relief. The circulation guys said a normal 'hello' and not the smart-ass "Hey, you old fart!" greeting they give to people who hit landmark birthdays of 30, 40, 50 or 60.

With a feeling of confidence, I walked up to the front office and saw black streamers over my desk and this cake:

It's black balloons and the figure in the middle
is the Grim Reaper - for those who can't make it out.

Along with a card. Now most people would feel great and happy but I was suspicious. Where's the embarrassing ad with the photo of me looking angry enough to kill someone? (I always look like that in photos that's because that is my usual expression when someone takes my picture)

Wow, it was a miracle. They were just being nice! In their warped way, of course.

It was nice. No police tape around my desk, no unplugged keyboard or mouse or anything. So we had cake (don't forget to rinse out your mouth after eating black frosting or you will look really diseased and weird) and I was relieved. No embarrassing photos on my computer either. That's another thing you get surprised by.

The day progressed and as I was heading out of the office to start my weekend, someone told me to make sure I read the Saturday paper - the date of my actual birthday. Now I have to spend two days worried about what's going to be in it. They're evil people. I bet they won't even run an ad, just letting me worry about it because I'm not going to be there for four days. Bastards. I love them all - well, not all, but most.

So the weekend begins! May it be Palin-free and boycott Time for putting the self-serving, quitter on the cover. I'm actually pissed off about that. Renegade? I think not. She's just a QUITTER!!!


[NP: R.E.M. - Imitation of Life]