Hypothetically Speaking . . .

Go Shorty, It’s Was My Birthday

Written By: Michael Rochelle - Oct• 25•13

Picture of a birthday card with Michael's photo on it.

Happy Birthday To Me, Happy Birthday To Me

As I sit here, a few days after my sixth time turning twenty-eight, I’m perplexed by several things. First, where has all the time gone? It’s not possible that I was entitled to yet another birthday so soon. I still haven’t quite recovered from the last one. You remember the details, right? Last year I cried a lot, ripped off my shirt, and rolled around the office floor until I’d collected so much hair and lent that I looked like a shih tzu.

I’m not sure what happened this go-round. It’s like I blinked twice and a whole year had passed. What happened to the summer? What happened to March? Better yet, what happened to Miley Cyrus? 2013 is almost over and I still haven’t watched a single episode of “Breaking Bad With The Walking Dead’s Modern Family” yet. There really is no excuse.

Because this birthday kind of snuck up on me, I didn’t plan anything for it. No party. No cake. And no panda bear strip clubs. Not this year. However, I must admit that I did spend the last few months trying to get Congress to make my birthday a national holiday, so it’s highly likely that I’m the reason for the recent government shutdown due to them simply not being able to decide how to best recognize my big day. One group wanted to name a monument after me, while the other group wanted to rename the state of Vermont in my honor. Personally, I would have been fine with either. I’m not hard to please.

But when your birthday falls dead smack in the middle of the week, what can you really do to celebrate it? Instead of gaining cool points, I think you actually lose them for stumbling into the office on a Thursday morning with a hangover because you stayed up too late the night before drinking Coke and watching Netflix. Because I couldn’t take off work that day, the only thing I had planned was to wear clean underwear if I could find some. And if I couldn’t, I would just have to settle for using a little Febreze in all the key places—as usual.

Another concern about this birthday was, when you reach middle-age, at what point is it ok to no longer spend an hour trying to figure out what you’re going to wear each day? When can you just get up and go, even if you have on no bottoms? Should I no longer iron or worry whether my plaid pants match my red, polka dot shirt and green, striped tie? And will my use of “I’m middle-aged” give me some form of credibility at the McDonald’s drive-thru or gain me understanding when I explain to my supervisor that my being middle aged is the reason why I’m late for work. Hmm. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.

Although the time has gone by quickly, I can’t say that it has been completely uneventful. Actually, I have an announcement. Are you sitting down? Oh, you are? It’s because you’re driving? Hmm. I’m not sure it’s legal to read and drive? Well, I would hate for you to miss my announcement. Ok, continue on and we’ll just keep that between us.

Well, on October 2nd, I kind of sort of accidentally started a new job in downtown DC. I know what you’re thinking: Michael, didn’t you just start a new job a few months ago? Well, yes I did, but I never considered my stint as a Victoria’s Secret model to be something I would do long-term. Although the pay was good, there are just some things that a middle-aged Michael shouldn’t wear. If there is one thing that I do have, it’s class and dignity and a mother who doesn’t look kindly upon those types of things.

Actually, the new job came unexpectedly. There I was, minding my own business one day when the phone rang. It was a bill collector. I hung up. But the next call was about a job opening just a few blocks away from the White House—and you know how I feel about the White House. And if that wasn’t reason enough for me to do a career change, when the recruiter informed me that they’d give me the opportunity to grow into the role of a janitorial analyst, I just couldn’t pass it up. I mean, if I play my cards right, one day I could clean a toilet that Obama actually peed in! See, real dreams do come true.

While I wait for that cleaning opportunity to come to fruition, I can honestly say that I’m thoroughly enjoying the job so far. Even though I went from a five-minute drive to work to a forty-five-minute ride on the metro—which deserves an entire blog post all to itself—the change has been invigorating. Downtown DC reminds me a lot of that fictional city they called New York on “Sex and the City.” Everyone is so friendly and they address me by name before demanding that I unclog the toilet.

So far, I feel right at home with the new job and I really enjoy the people. Oh, and did I mention that the team decorated my desk for my birthday although I’ve only been there a few weeks? I couldn’t believe it. I have no idea how they knew about my big day. On second thought, maybe they knew because I brought it up like a thousand times, or maybe they noticed the huge flashing billboard I rented right outside the building. Either way, I was thrilled.

Photo of Michael at his desk.

Are my eyes closed on this one, too?

In addition to the wonderful people, I think the best thing about the job is that it came with business cards. I’ve always wanted business cards—and not the ones where you have to scratch someone else’s name off and write in your own. Finally, it’s like I’m a big boy. You know what they say, it’s the business card that makes the man. You should see me standing outside the metro station waving to all the people and handing out cards to anyone willing to accept them. On the other hand, I think my supervisor is probably getting a little tired of me handing her one every time we have a meeting. Next time I’ll just leave some on her desk.

In addition to the business cards, the new organization has even set up a photo shoot for the end of the month so that they can take a professional picture of me to add to the company website. Due to my brief stint modeling for Victoria Secret and because of my wining that one season of “America’s Next Top Model,” I hope that my photos don’t come out too good for someone of my janitorial status. I wouldn’t want to outshine my new co-workers. However, if there is a wind machine at the shoot, all bets are off!!!

Michael Rochelle
Access my full blog: http://www.justmichael.net/blog
Friend me on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/michael.rochelle1

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4 Comments

  1. RageMichelle says:

    It seems the more time goes by, the less important birthdays seem.

    Also, I LOVE your blog layout. It’s very attractive.

  2. Of course this was the one time I forgot to bring my wind machine to a shoot… =) Just imagine how much better you would look with your hair flowing in the wind like Oprah.

  3. Yeah, Stephen, I was truly disappointed. Maybe next time. LOL.

  4. You know what? Maybe we should change that and be super excited the more birthdays we have because that means we’re still around to celebrate them.

    Oh, and thanks for the blog layout complement. However, I have to pass the credit on to Yahoo sitebuilder who have a templated called “magazine article” that I use. It’s quick and painless for me and still looks nice.

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