Today was my birthday, and for the first time in my working life, I didn’t take the day off.

How was it, you ask? Well, the title of this book by the late David Foster Wallace sums it up best:


I shouldn’t really complain: I’ve long thought that there wouldn’t be any harm in everyone having their birthday as a day off school, college, work or whatever. It’s just the one day, and since everyone has only one every year (except the Queen and people who were born on February 29), it’d apply pretty much equally.

Now I think about it, this is probably one of the few beliefs I have which hasn’t changed over time. A solid and definite policy decision, maybe I should (crap pun approaching) form a political group and stand on this policy and this policy alone, under the name The Birthday Party?

Oh hang on, looks like Nick Cave and friends have beaten me to it. Ah well, probably for the best.

Do forgive my nonsense, it’s late and I’m increasingly old. Though I guess that applies to all of us.