Herpe Birthday

So, it turns out most of my really good friends didn't even wish me a happy birthday. Fuck em'. I'm done. I get that everyone is busy and shit. I work 8-10 hours a day with a 90 minute commute in between. I'm pretty busy too. I'm really disappointed and decided that I will not call any of them again. If they want to talk to me they can call me or leave a message. Thanks Shawn for remembering. Anyhow I broke down again at work yesterday distraught that no one gives a fuck about me and that it seems that everyone else knows my job better than me. Another UI was in the bathroom at the time, who did her undergrad at Harvard, and was an architect in her former life from NYU's School of Architecture. She consoled me telling me she doesn't know whats going on either. She's been here for 6 months and is extremely smart. I know this is a "don't give up" kind of thing. But shit, its hard. Frustrating and hard.

On that note, I love my agency to death, but I think its time some ground rules be laid down. I'm tired of everyone's cell phone ringing during work time, the cranking up of music in cubicle quadrants, and people deciding to end the work day at 5:00 and drinking and playing music while others are trying to work. I get that its a creative agency, but someone needs to lay down some rules. Shit. So, my birthday was spent with a co-worker and her husband, a couple of margaritas, an amstel light and a guinness and a whole lot of herpes jokes. Because we all know how much I love to talk about herpes.