That's right, folks. I am now 22! What a loada shit. And I don't feel crappy, by the way, because I dread getting older. No, no, that's way off.

Ever since I can remember, I've had what I now fondly call "The Birthday Curse." Seriously now, the 11th of January is like Friday the 13th to the six-hundredth-sixty-sixth power to me. It never fails to be a shitty day. My first birthday I can recall, way back when I turned four, I had a 104� fever. A hacking cough and runny nose marked my fifth birthday, and when the ninth anniversery of my birth came around, my first ever real pet cat, Purredurs, got hit by a car and died. I saw his black carcass smeared on the concrete while I walked down the sidewalk with some birthday cake. No shitting. My eleventh birthday? Chickenpox. They sprouted overnight! What the fuck?! And so it has come to pass, year after year, that I sustain some type of bodily malady or even injury on my birthday, so I never enjoy it. Yup, it's always either I get sick, or someone just comes along with all their crappiness and ruins my day. Today, it was both.

All I will say on behalf of the birthday mood being ruined is this: mi supervisor es un culero de a primera. Ojala que se muera agonizantemente el cabr�n.

Physical? Here we go...:

1) A box fell on me, the corner digging into my bicep. It still hurts like a mother, after all these hours. It hurts to move my arm. Juan says I should report the injury and milk the company for all they're worth. I say, screw it. Poco veneno no mata.

2) Stomach cramps. Bad ones. To the point I was about to puke all over the Next Day Air packages around me. Zamira made sure to edge away from me once I told her I felt nauseous. I still feel woozy, come to it.

3) I cut myself across the palm with a razor. I'm still not sure how that happened; everything was a mess at work today, we were all moving so fast. It must've been a box-cutter. My hand didn't bleed, but dirt and grease got in and it stings like a motherfucker.

4) I twisted my foot.

5) I banged my head.

6) I had to jump down from the International trailer to the parking lot below and I scuffed my already burning cut hand.