They decorated my office this morning with custom-made birthday signs:
They made two other signs as well: one with a shirtless personal trainer and one with large-haired woman from the company the domestic partner works for. So with all of Broadway, the cast of Law & Order, a stand-in for my personal trainer and all the domestic partner's colleagues—which is pretty much everyone who's important in this world—wishing me a happy birthday, I pretty have no choice but to have a happy birthday. Which I totally did on Saturday.
And today I have a really bad cake hangover. Please keep your voices down.
(And yes, I blacked out Fred Thompson's ugly mug. There's no reason to drown your birthday glow in a droopy-eyed grimace from a leaky douchebag. Which means Rudy Giuliani should probably avoid mirrors next month.)
UPDATE: My department took me to Chipotle for lunch. Then my folks sent a cake to my office:
So this is pretty much a perfect day.