As if turning 40 wasn't bad enough the first time...
I frowned in response, rapidly texting back, My birthday was yesterday.
A moment later, my phone rang and I hit the green button, growling, “That’s not funny.”
“I know you’re trying to ignore turning forty, but even you can’t forget your own birthday,” Shelly replied.
“It was yesterday, Shell. We went out. We got really drunk. And we had to take a cab home. Please tell me this is a joke.”
“Look at the date on your phone, Lulu. Today’s your birthday. And we have plans, girlie.”
I groaned. “How can you even think about going out? I’m still hung over from last night.”
“Get your butt out of bed, Lulu girl. I’m on my way over.” A beep signaled the end of the conversation and I flopped over, trying to figure out what was going on.
Deciding to start with the easiest answer, I looked at the face of my phone, verifying that it was indeed my birthday. “This has got to be a joke,” I grumbled. Still I got out of bed, knowing that Shelley wasn’t kidding when she said she was on her way over. If I didn’t answer the door when she knocked, she’d just let herself in and probably drag me bodily from my bed.
Sure enough about ten minutes later, my front door burst open and Shelly whirled into my house. “Where are you, Lulu girl?” she called.
“In the kitchen,” I called back from where I was fighting with my coffee pot.
Shelly swanned into my kitchen, dropping the bags in her arms onto my table before taking over the coffee pot duties. “Aw,” she cooed, “do you need caffeine?”
“I always need to caffeine to deal with you,” I retorted. I poked at the bags despite her yelping at me. “What are we doing?”
“Mani-pedis, lunch, and then bar hopping!” Shelly declared.
I groaned as my head thunked down on the table. It looked like I was going to wake up with another hangover.