Twenty-Seven

Birth­days get pro­gres­sive­ly more bor­ing as one ages. Oth­er than the ini­tial “Yay It’s my birth­day!” upon wak­ing up today isn’t going to be much dif­fer­ent than usu­al. Although I might stop by Dav­e’s and pick up a sug­ar-cream pie on my way home. Oh man, I love me some sug­ar-cream pie. One year ago, I put in my notice at my old job. That was a great birth­day present. When­ev­er I get frus­trat­ed here at the Coun­ty, I just remem­ber how life-suck­ing the work at Thom­son-West was and thank my lucky stars.

A lot has changed in a year. I’ve grown into my job, there is a new con­fi­dence in me when I hop around town talk­ing to dif­fer­ent Coun­ty depart­ments about improv­ing their web pres­ence. I actu­al­ly have an exper­tise that can improve the way they inter­act with the pub­lic on the web, and the chance to use it. In the last year, I broke up with an old girl­friend, bought a house, found a new great woman, rode my bike to work for sev­en months, and took pub­lic trans­porta­tion for the oth­er five. I also broke a big toe and an elbow and final­ly got to play Punk Rock Soft­ball. I’m also seri­ous­ly cash-strapped as the house absorbs all of my mon­ey. So if any­one wants to treat me to my new favorite meal [a cheese­burg­er, sweet pota­to fries and a Guin­ness at Pros­per­i­ty] tonight, I’m cer­tain­ly down for that. Tues­day is the day for the cheese­burg­er deal at hap­py hour, if I’m not mis­tak­en.

I did­n’t make ribs this year, which was unfor­tu­nate. I am going to have two Thanks­giv­ings though, so that will make up for it.

I must be hun­gry.