Happy Birthday to Me

Google puts a little special header on your search page, if it knows when your birthday is – and google knows everything. That is kinda cute.

Your friends and family, both real and virtual put greetings on your Facebook timeline. The iPad chimes happily all day.

Starbucks and others want you to have good day and they try to lure you into their shops by promising free stuff.

But, all you youngsters out there – and that would be anyone who isn’t old enough for medicare – medicare emails you the absolute worst birthday greeting ever.

“Hello old fart: Since it is your natal day – come on down and get obesity counseling, a colonoscopy, a mammogram, alcohol misuse screening, …” By the time you are my age you should know how to use alcohol. Select beverage, open beverage, consume beverage, repeat as needed.

This is what Medicare thinks I should have tested. High intensity behavioral counseling? WTF is that? It is enough  to insure I ace the Depression Screening.

Chipped away at my piles of paper and stuff today.

Today’s drawer was easy. I hoped the directions for the vacuum would show up. The directions for his answering machine showed up. I looked at the answering machine and whoops – 21 messages. Listen, delete, repeat. Listen, delete, repeat. Listen, delete, repeat.

No, I don’t miss Carlton today more than any other day. He always gave me a Hershey Bar. I love the man dearly, but he was one cheap bugger. He did, however, run the vacuum, do the dishes and clean the bathroom. Oh, and wash the windows.