The Year of the Snow Monkey

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: An introverted writer with anxiety issues.

Okay, those might not be the actual words of my least favorite Christmas song, but since I was born on the twelfth day of Christmas, I feel like I can substitute them as reality.

That’s right, Modern Philosophers, yesterday was my birthday.

Since it snowed yesterday, and I’ve already spent a good portion of today shoveling more snow, I have to assume my special day ushered in The Year of the Snow Monkey.

When I arrive at work on my birthday, I found a David Rose sign and a large jar of candy on my desk.  Two more coworkers arrived with chocolate soon after.  That was followed by a coworker with a homemade chocolate peanut butter cake, and another with homemade cinnamon bread.

If you are sensing a common theme here it is that I am clearly beloved by all.  Well, either that, or my coworkers know to appease me with sweets if they want to stay on my good side.

Either one works for me because it gets me all the yummy treats.

I grew up feeling that I had to make a big deal about my birthday because it was so close to Christmas, and I was afraid people would forget about it.

Now, I’m very appreciative that my friends make me things and bring me food because I often feel like I have no one special in my life who cares about such things.

To be honest, I was just looking forward to curling up on the couch last night to watch all the shows that have piled up on my DVR, and eating whatever piece of cake I bought myself at the grocery store.

I still watched all the shows, but I did it with a piece of the homemade chocolate peanut butter cake that my friend made for me.

I didn’t take today off in anticipation of having wild plans on my birthday.  I just wanted to sleep in, work on my polish of the Detective Bruno stories before I query agents, and take advantage of some of the vacation time I never get around to using.

Because I am off today, I got to dodge the bullet of having to be out in a snowstorm.  I went out this morning to shovel, and I’ll go out again later to shovel once the snow stops.  That’s much better than having to drive in such weather.

Of course, since it is The Year of the Snow Monkey, I had a gut feeling today would be a snow day.

I’m excited to work on this latest rewrite of The Vanishing Corpse and The Vanishing Santa, but I also realize that focusing on that means I won’t be blogging as much.  Don’t worry, Modern Philosophers, I’m not retiring the blog.  I’m just busy prepping the best version of Bruno and Wally for the people who will decide if they get to entertain the world in novel form.

Stay warm, be safe, and don’t forget to bend your knees when you shovel all that snow!