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I got a Muppet Show DVD and an awesome book and birthday tweets from jessamyn and gomichild. My wife baked me a chocolate raspberry Nigella Lawson cake (does not actually contain Nigella Lawson). I melted Batman's brain. My mom told me I'm awesome. I used a comically large ink pen to take notes in a meeting at work today. Good day.
I was taken for breakfast by my mom, sister, and brother before work, and then had a pretty lame day at work (manager forgot it was my birthday, which would entitle me to a paid day off at my leisure; would not have been an issue had we not had two conversations about it the week prior). I came home with a sore throat and headache and am pretty sure I'm coming down with something.
I haven't gotten gifts as my dad is out of town and so my parents usually do things together, my sister had hers all wrapped but forgot it this morning (at 645am, in her defence) and my friends will probably do something embarrassing on Friday, when we go for dinner + drinks + dancing.
current self-gift tally (aka things I justified by using birthday as an excuse):
1. Radiohead ticket to see them at Thunderbird Stadium (which, ironically, I may end up working as a stagehand at)
2. a copy of the 33 1/3rd book about Celine Dion
3. a copy of the Elements of Typographic Style
I came home with a sore throat and headache and am pretty sure I'm coming down with something.
Must be birthday flu. I started with the sinuses and sore throat last night. This morning, everything above my adam's apple feels like one big pile of plague gravy. Please, God, let me not pass it on to the baby.