Where's the love, man?

My mom had mild surgery last week and I had to do some serious mom sitting... no big deal... just really glad she got a good report and every thing was ok. But she had scheduled a garage sale for this week, I mean, the ad had already been published in the paper and she could not get every thing ready nor could she run the sale by herself. So my sister and I took turns Mom-sitting, getting ready for the sale, and helping out at the sale this week.

With all this fantastic fun on my horizon, I was really looking forward to this week. Well, actually I was looking forward to the end of this week. Because, obviously the week needed something to spice it up a bit, make things a little more up-beat. Me... I came up with the perfect solution. I got sick. Not just any sick, mind you, but "I think I'm dying because of my allergies... no maybe it's a cold, ... wait, it's settled in my chest it must be bronchitis... No, No, it's progressed to pneumonia" kind of sick. Thank goodness my sister was able to help finish up the garage sale preparations while I coughed and moaned.

Well the fun picked up on Wednesday when I had to begin my work week. I actually was feeling better but the kid decided she'd like a bit of what I was having and by now she was starting to look a little beyond help, although she did manage to drag herself off to work too. We have both been wishing we had at least been in a train wreck to justify our constant groaning due to the impending arrival at our door of the death angel.

I have managed to do my tour of duty on the job, help some with the sale preparations and I even got to sit in my mom's garage, sweat, and watch time crawl bye very slowly. But today is the last day of the work week, the last day of the sale... and it will soon all be history. Now that it is finally winding down, I am pleased to see that I have survived it quite successfully. I'm just looking forward to the weekend so I can sweep the floors and do some laundry. wheeee!

But despite all this up-beat chatter, actually, I'm a bit stuck in miry pit of gloom and despair. You see, today is my birthday! And, honestly, the way this week has gone, even I had forgotten it. I was reminded when the kid rasped out a phlegmy "happy birthday" this morning as we were trying to get ourselves motivated and out the door to work. So now, here I sit, all wrapped up in wondering why my birthday has to be so crappy. Yep, that's me, sitting here in the middle of this fantastic party, fantastic pity party, that is. Absolutely, all by myself. Completely ignored by the entire world at large. Do you feel my pain? Do you? Do You? Maybe just a tiny bit?

It's almost noon and I haven't received one silly ecard wishing me a happy birthday today. That's right, not one. What's wrong, people? Can you explain this! I have not received one single phone call to say "happy birthday, Anne". That’s right, not one. I mean really, not one.

And here at work... since i sort of retired last year... and only work a bit, they must have removed me from the employee roster... because I have not gotten a single crappy "howdy, happy birthday" from even one of my co-workers. In the past, someone would bring cookies or a cake to share during break time... but not today! No, not today. What is going on here, folks? Have I passed into the twilight zone? Can anyone see me? Do you even know I'm here?

Now all this bitching seems just a tad bit out-of-place coming from me... I really don't like people making a fuss over me... but today I have come to realize that I do like to get the token attention everyone gets... I really do! I do... I really do!

So I ask you...

Where's the love, man, where's the love? It's my birthday for cripes sakes. Bring on the birthday cheer! I need a Happy Birthday up in here! at least one. don't make me beg!

please