Another Birthday in the Life of Bullet Hole

My birthday was Tuesday. Now, I usually try to put my head down and stoically bulldog my way through the day. Little fanfare. Little fuss. That’s the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it.

Oh, I appreciate the emails and cards and best wishes, but for the most part I just want to get it behind me with as little emotional trauma and morbid thoughts of mortality as possible. But one does hope for some decent luck and a bit of cheer on one’s special day.
So let me tell you about my birthday.

Thunderboomers, lightning, heavy rain and battering winds woke me around one A.M. And those of you who recall my annual spring fling history of wading in basement water knee-deep will understand my inability to get back to sleep as I lie there listening to buckets of rain dumping on already saturated ground. At half past three I give up, check the basement again, and stumble to my office and read about other people’s sleep disorders in my Abnormal Psych textbook.

By 5:30 I’m on my way to work. It’s still pouring and some moron is riding the Jimmy’s tail with his or her bright lights on, literally obliterating any sign of the road ahead of me. I finally reduce my speed to a crawl and the dummy goes around me. And yes. For just a teensy moment, I was tempted to speed up, click my brights on and return the favor. But since I really didn’t want to risk a case of road rage on my ‘special day’, I resisted the urge.

I arrive at work. It’s still dark. It’s still pouring. The wind is still ripping away. I grab my umbrella, exit the car, and realize I’ve left my thermos of coffee at home. I can’t stress the importance of my coffee thermos filled with my lovely dark, strong, black with no cream or sugar caffeinated beverage. It’s the difference between a semi -comatose state and the ability to recognize a security threat when I see it—which, of course requires eyes that are open. And focusing.

So, I grumbled a bit (cheapskate that I am) resigned to the fact that I would have to purchase my caffeine fix from the cafeteria. It’s not as strong as mine, but better than nothing. I exit my vehicle in the monsoon-like rain and head in the direction of the closest entrance. I got about ten meters when the wind caught my umbrella. You know what happened next. Yep. My umbrella did one of those embarrassing inside out moves. I could only be thankful it was still dark and no one was around to laugh at the spectacle I made. I ended up running to the entrance, my bag held overhead as a makeshift umbrella.

I get inside and shake off like a mongrel (and probably smelling like one) to begin a ten hour shift. I’d decided that it might be nice to have a few hours of unstructured time to relax and vej out to celebrate my birthday. We had sufficient staff. Why not take off a couple hours early? I report to my work station, go 10-41--and find out we’re short due to illness and expect a huge number of folks through security. My free time fantasy went poof!

The day is busy, but uneventful. Until my sister comes to have lunch with me on my birthday and bearing a big tray of cupcakes for me to hand out. I was touched. It was so thoughtful. My sister and I are both incredibly busy people and rarely have opportunities to see each other so this was truly a gift.

I’m relieved for lunch at my work station. I grab the plastic tray of cupcakes to take them to the security break area. I’m eating with my sister and happen to look down at my uniform and discover somehow I’ve gotten white cupcake frosting up one sleeve and down the front of my dress uniform. Even my breast patch is covered with gooey frosting. I stare at my sister. She stares back.

“How did you manage that?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“It’s another gift that keeps on giving,” I replied with a wince.

Fortunately, for some bizarre reason I a spare jacket in my vehicle. So, with borrowed umbrella in hand, I ran out to switch uniforms.

It’s still pouring.

At the end of my shift, I hit the door running.

I get home. The basement is still dry. I change out of my uniform into comfy sweats and collapse onto the couch.

My daughter calls from work.

“Anything you need me to pick up on my way home?” she asks.

I don’t miss a beat.

“Chocolate,” I responded. “Lots and lots of chocolate.”

Hmm. Maybe next year I’ll take the day off.

In advance.

Any less than stellar birthday memories (besides the reality of getting another year older) you’d like to share? How about best birthdays? Do you make a big deal out of the anniversary of your birth or, like me, do you basically let it pass without much hoopla?

~Bullet Hole who is such a party animal she’s celebrating with a trip to the dentist later today~