I decided to be a little selfish.
Well a lot, actually.
A metric fucktonne if we want to get specific.
Normally my birthday is a non-event, probably my fault if we are getting all honest and touchy feely, cause I fucking LOVE birthdays and go a little over board on everyone elses and then kinda sit back and expect the same done for me.
Last year was the final straw. It was a week of searing temperatures and tempers and ended with MOTY telling me off for not having a good birthday.
What the actual fuck woman, isn’t that YOUR JOB?
Anywhoodle. This year is different.
I am DIYing it.
My birthday is on 12 March. So I declare it The Twelve Days of Kelley.
On the first day of Kelley my true love gave to me:
A movie night full of munchies.
On the second day of Kelley my true love gave to me:
Donuts and coffee in bed, afternoon sleep and chicken with aioli.
These are mini donuts from the freezer section at Woolies and will forever be a staple in my freezer.
I seriously passed out for like 2 or 3 hours. It was awful and splendid all at once.
On the third day of Kelley my true love gave to me:
A day off work with a kid home all snotty.
no picture. You are welcome.
And there will be hot salty fries for dinner…
What else should I include in my totally self indulgent, clearly blasphemous, celebration of me? Obviously the snotty kid wasn’t planned but who doesn’t love an extra day off work, huh?
I have already planned an extra long weekend (Public Holiday on Monday, Rec day on Tuesday equals Saturday to Friday with no work HUZZAH MOTHERFUCKERS!) a parade (thanks Moomba!) and a pedicure with Maddie on the 11th day.
What would you do if you scheduled in a week of self celebration?