“K is coming tomorrow!!!!!!!!” I shout to two friends sitting in my living room on Thursday night. While I’m talking to her I realize that my second bedroom looks like a bomb exploded and then she tells me she’ll be here when I get home from work. That means: I’ll be up all night cleaning. Fuck. And awesome, my birthday week is beginning.

I’ve never been a birthday person. Save for my 21st, I never made a fuss about it. I don’t make it a point to let everyone know the day is coming. I don’t demand parties or dinners or even a “happy birthday.” I have issues with the whole center of attention part of it. I’d rather just treat it as another day. This year however, my best friend decided to come down for the weekend. “OK,” I thought, “we’ll make this a thing.”

The spoiling really began on Wednesday when my Dad took me out to dinner and cheesecake with my brother and nieces and nephews. It was great going to a nice restaurant with kids literally running circles around the table. Classy.

On Friday morning I’m sitting in the teacher’s lounge working on paperwork when a little boy comes up to me and hands me flowers. He’s with his father, the school’s art teacher. The both tell me “happy birthday.” I am blown away. I profusely say “thank you.” I don’t think I’ve ever said two words to this teacher and I certainly don’t know his son. I’m flabbergasted and slightly in love. Flowers can make your knees weak.

K arrives on Friday shortly after I get home and fall asleep. She stands at my front door calling all my numbers because my “dead to the world” self is not waking up. I finally drag myself to the door and apologize. Then I let her know that I will be cleaning the room she is sleeping in at some point tonight if in fact she plans to sleep in that room. I first teach her to knit, to keep her busy while I clean. We then venture out to my favorite place in town for sushi and tater tots. That’s right, sushi and tater tots. We ordered a bucket of tots and I can safely say that I never want to eat a tater tot again even though they were damn good. Back at home, I cleaned while K knit. We talked and I cussed every once in awhile because she’s informed me that my boy crush is dating his ex-girlfriend again. Fuck boys. I scream this randomly and often.

I wake up late on Saturday, fix breakfastlunch, shower, and we go to the spa. We’re late for our hour massage when means we only get 45 minutes. We are pissed at ourselves. We get a massage in the same room. K informs me that this is actually weird, that usually the room is used for couples. We decide to pretend to be lesbian lovers. During the 45 minutes of rubbing I realize that this massage therapist has touched more surface area and just more than well, anyone. That’s weird. After the massage we put on robes and feel drunk and tired. We sit in rocking chairs and drink water and try to come back to life. We then get hour-long facials. During this hour I will think things like “Are you kidding me? This is the best thing in the history of best things. You should get paid for this. Damn!” Needless to say, the facial is my favorite part. Our manicures are done and after this we head home for showers and dinner out with more friends. K and I are too tired to shower. We realize that a spa day takes it out of you and we will actually be Pretty K and Pretty Anna for the night (which means we’ll go out without showers). We rationalize that we took showers in the morning and that we are in fact clean. We are ignoring the layer upon layer upon layer of lotions and shit that has been slathered on us all day.

Dinner requires detours as the first restaurant we try has a 2 to 2 1/2 wait. Are you kidding us? We end up at a place that sits us immediately, but has shitty service. The food is OK, but my friends take the bill. I am thankful and a bit pissed. I’m not good at the receiving of gifts thing. We then go for ice cream in lue of birthday cake. It’s fabulous. We head home for a girls night in. My head hurts and I’m exhausted. These are side effects of the massage. I struggle to stay awake for my guests. I pass out quickly.

Sunday morning is breakfast out with K. Then the phone calls begin. I love hearing from family and friends. I feel loved. Then there is a super bowl dinner thrown in my birthday honor. It is fabulous and delicious even though I leave at halftime because I’m just exhausted. It’s been an amazing weekend. I’ve eaten and eaten out more in the last week than I have in six months. The unexpected gifts, ecards, cards, presents, flowers made my life. I love everyone. You spoil me. You all rock. I wish I had everyone around me like this everyday.

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