Happy Birthday to Me...

So, it's my birthday for another 51 minutes, and I should really be heading to Somniaville, but instead I'm going to write.
I had a good birthday. The day started out a little rough, with mountains of snow (especially along all the sidewalks between home and work) thanks to yet another large snowstorm yesterday. Which resulted in cold wet socks all morning in the office. But the day only went up from there, with friends taking me out to Mongolian Grill for lunch, much accomplished at the office by end of day, Hugh making me Pad thai from scratch for dinner, and then individual little cakes, and then watching Across the Universe (quickly making it's way onto my list of favourite movies) with Hugh. It was a damn good night. And also, I started a good new book; Neverwhere, by Gaiman. Damn, can that guy write a story!
Speaking of, I'm back on the lit train myself, quill in hand. There is a short story assignment for book club that I fully intend to pen (long story how we got there, but the gist is we each have to write a story titled 'The Dirty Minister'), and also, I've got some ideas of my own flowing. We'll see if anything comes of that.
Also, I've got some sketches in my head that I think I might take a shot at getting onto paper, despite well-proven facts regarding my lack of prowess when it comes to sketching. What can I say, it's a creative time for me I guess. Next thing you know I'll be sounding out my first symphony on the back of restaurant napkins, and hiring actors for my one-woman film debut.
But until the premier, I'm going to be a recluse. In my bed. Cause it's calling.
I shouldn't have taken the time to write this- I'm overtired, and it's showing. This makes no sense. Happy Birthday to Me.