listening after dark: Oddest birthday ever

(I would say "worst birthday ever," but I seem to recall an instance when I got pink-eye as a kid and was therefore not allowed to have my planned birthday sleepover. That was pretty lame.)

It all started last Saturday, as I was on the plane(s) flying home from India. It was either something I ate or the built-up stress from so much travel; either way, I've been having tummy troubles since then. And Thursday night, the eve of my birthday, it all came undone. I spent about six hours being the sickest I've been in about 15 years. I found myself contemplating, while sitting on the bathroom floor, whether people go to the emergency room for throwing up and, if I had to go, how much my insurance co-pay would be (not to mention that my insurance hasn't proven very helpful in paying what I expect, leaving me to cover the rest).

Finally fell asleep around 4 am, and woke up around 8, wondering if I could make it to work. Yeah, most sane people would just call in sick, but if I didn't go, that would only make Monday more hellish. So I went—late, at least, around 10:30. Worked all day. They had birthday cake for me and another girl whose birthday was the day before. It was German chocolate, my favorite, but I couldn't eat any. Then around 5, one of our writers decided it was a good day to bring in a case of beer, so a bunch of people were sitting around very near my desk drinking beer. Definitely couldn't have any of that. I was barely able to eat a piece of toast and some applesauce all day.

Wes and I were supposed to go to dinner last night, but I couldn't really manage that. So I had soup and crackers for dinner. Couldn't drink any of the wine Wes brought over. The evening did end on a better note, as I got to open presents, including two CDs: Tom Waits and Dean Martin, both live and drunk. An hour laughing at Dean Martin's Live at the Sands Hotel was just what the doctor ordered.

Today already looks better, despite the inch of snow outside. (Oh yeah, that was another weird/lame thing about yesterday: It snowed—popcorn snow, off and on all afternoon.) I slept nine hours and now feel much better. Tonight Wes and I are going to a Beethoven concert and then to dinner. And now that I'm officially 24, it makes more sense to celebrate today, a wonderful blessed Saturday when I don't have to do anything. Except pay my rent. But I think I can manage that.