NOTHING.

Not a damn thing.

We all had plans to meet up for drinks, so I was going to go home, take a much-needed nap, hose off, then head out.

I went home, was unable to nap, called everyone and told them we�d do it Friday, and stayed in. Shawn wasn�t even around. She�s watching her little brother and sister while her mom is out of town.

This is the first time in my whole entire life I�ve spent a birthday both Not Out, and alone.

I loved it. I may do this every year � Birthday Fun in the days leading up to the 26th, then on the big day, lay on the futon with my presents all around me, watch TV, and wallow in my own filth. I was home to receive all the phone calls from people telling me they�re glad I was born. (Although I suspect others didn�t call, because they assumed I�d be out. That�s okay, too.)

After a night of gorging myself on burritos and Must-See TV, I passed out on the futon. At about 5:30 a.m., I woke up and went back to my bedroom.

This morning, I feel great. Energized and ready to raise some hell tonight.

So never fear � I�m sure there will be drunken post-birthday stories come Monday.

Shawn surprised me with a flower arrangement that arrived at the station yesterday. She is the best wife ever.

That�s right, I said wife. We have a very distinct husband-and-wife relationship, and it keeps reinforcing itself every time we decide who does what in another area.

I make more money than she does, and she cleans more than I do. I cook, she does the dishes. I kill the bugs, she cleans �em up. I deal with the landlord and pay the bills. She does laundry.

I ask you, who needs a man?