Title, yes, probably used by a good percentage of people in one birthday related blog post or another, I know.

I have definitely reached the point where birthdays suck.

Friday, husband came back from his out-of-town job interview.
Friday night I didn’t go home. I spent the night, until early morning in the emergency room.

I went out about 8 to pick up some food, figuring after I picked it up, I’d head to the airport. My brother-in-law, who works at the airport, was bringing him home, but I thought I’d save him the effort.

I put in my order, and went down the plaza to pick up some stuff at the drugstore. On my way over, I saw a man in the parking lot. He looked to be in pain, and being the good Samaritan that I am, I went to help.

Wrong.

I was coming from a meeting, I was in heels. We know, in heels, I have had mishaps. I am not always the most graceful. So, when he tried to stand up and grabbed me and I fell, I assumed I lost my balance. Then I realized he was pushing me down against the pavement.

After what seemed like an eternity, I was able to get out from underneath him. We were still tangled when some guys working at the nearby grocery store ran over to help. They helped both of us up and one called 911 on his cell. I couldn’t speak.

I was sobbing, but it was like I didn’t recognize the noise.

I just kept crying hysterically, pulling my dress across my thighs where it was ripped. The manager of the store gave me a coat while we waited. I was too stunned to talk. Me.

The cops and ambulance came. One cop there had the audacity to ask me if I “approached and provoked the gentleman”. He was then removed from my vicinity by the advocate they sent as I called him an asshole. To be fair, apparently that was the story the guy was selling.

That was when I started talking. I couldn’t slow down, I was crying and sniffling and screaming.

After some stitches, a sedative and an exam, I got my version on paper. The cop who took my statement was really great, unlike his colleague.

They wanted to call someone. I didn’t want them calling my husband. I didn’t have my cell, it was in the car. I knew he’d have to call someone else, wasn’t like he could pick me up. It’s now 2 am.

I did not make a wise choice. I said there was no one to call and asked if I could just stay a little longer. The ER doc, convinced I was still in shock, agreed.

The advocate drove me to my car, after I set up an appointment to follow-up with her, another for the remainder of my blood work. I called my husband when I got to the car. He had called my dad. I asked him to please send him home. I went in, told him, took a shower. I called my parents. I went to bed.

When I woke up, he told me he got the job. He has to give an answer by tomorrow morning.  I asked him to tell everyone to pretend it wasn’t my birthday.  Later on, I threw away the dress. And the shoes. Those snakeskin ones. Fucker.