Today is my BK's 32nd birthday. Although I am a notorious grouch in the mornings, I willed myself to say hello to the birthday boy as cheerfully as possible this morning. I believe birthdays have the potential to be special, if you let them. They want to be acknowledged and made a big deal out of. They want balloons and cakes and special dinners and kisses and wine. It's the one day of the year that other people are supposed to focus on you, and you may gladly accept their fawning and silly songs.
That's why I decided a few years ago that I will never work on my birthday, ever again. Working on one's birthday is really just depressing. You're still expected to perform your job, and your co-workers most often are not going to give you the genuine fawning-over that you desire.
So last year, for example, I took the day off, went to a spa with a friend, got a massage and a facial, had a lovely lunch and bought an expensive purse. Then I went to my parents' house for some fawning-over. It was a great day!
BK doesn't seem to agree with me about my taking-the-day-off policy, and he will be heading to work this morning. I'll try to make up for the depressing day at work with appropriate levels of fawning-over later on, but don't say I didn't warn you, babe!