Today is Monday. It is the Monday after my birthday. The Monday after my birthday is Columbus Day. That is cool.

Well, it was cool. When I was a kid, Columbus Day was cool because school was not in session. It was a birthday celebration for me. I am no longer in grade school. I have a job, and jobs do not celebrate the free world. They celebrate deadlines and work and habitually bad coffee. Native Americans often feel left out and discriminated against on Columbus Day, since Christopher Columbus (not to be confused with the film maker that gave us the hit movies Adventures in Babysitting and Home Alone) basically found the Americas and killed everyone.

Now I know how Native Americans feel. I am at work, and not off work.

Thanks, Chris.

Copped gifts

I am 33 years old. I still receive gifts for my birthday. I received a bottle of Gentleman Jack, because I am a drinker.

“How much do I drink,” you ask?

“To the upper end of social,” I respond.

I also received a Sammy Sosa Cubs jersey. My future mother in law found it at a yard sale.

“Good find,” I told her.

I miss steroids in baseball.

My fiancé gifted me some picture frames for my desk. As she so eloquently put it, “So I don’t look like a serial killer at work.” The frames have pictures of us in them.

My future sister law and Chris, her boyfriend, were responsible for delivering the Gentleman Jack. They also gave me a $50 Amazon gift card, which I used to buy books on Amazon. Probably should have looked for the “gray market” ED treatment, but I went with the books instead.

I also had a cake. It was a chocolate cake. I ate it all. Now I weigh 210 pounds.

That’s about it. It was a good birthday. But now, it’s Monday, and I am at work. Which is distressing to me. You may as well kill me too, white man. I know what you did. You found Central and South America, but not North America. But then, when your little friends found out that you didn’t fall off the edge of the flat earth, they came marching over, bringing their art and music and science and medicine and philosophy and religious principles with them and killed all the tribes of Indians and made me work on Monday.

Thanks. Happy birthday to me. There’s booze in the coffee, so watch yourself.