Monday – Diary of Ann Franks

Today is my birthday. I share it with Richard Nixon, Joan Baez and Kate Middleton. I missed Elvis’ by just one day.

I have no particular plans for this year’s event. No Anntastic adventure or Annapalooza. For one thing, it is a Monday. A Monday that for some unknown reason I have not taken as a vacation day. Unless a kind soul has hidden a carton of Sofia’s under my desk, it will be a Monday like any other. Only I will invariably feel older.

Then again, I always feel at least a year older on Mondays. And today promises to be abysmal. I have four meetings. Everyone knows a day containing more than one meeting is a day in which you get nothing done. Instead, you sit in rooms talking about things you need to get done. then you schedule a follow-up meeting so everyone can keep track of what’s been done. And not done.

What kind of birthday fun is that? If groups of people are going to gather on my birthday and demand my attendance, there should at least be cake involved. (Or in my case, queso.) Plus, candles and champagne.

Wait. I have a diabolical idea. At least it will amuse me.

What I’ll do is walk into every meeting today a few minutes late. I’ll back into the room as though I’m talking to someone in the hallway. As I turn around to face the conference table I will jump back and GASP. Then I’ll slap my hand to my chest and gush, “Oh my goodness! You GUYS!! A surprise party? For me? You SHOULDN’T have!!!”

That should liven things up.

Or get me fired.

Happy Monday to all!