It's my birthday. I hate birthdays. Most useless day of the year.
The last thing I desire is flattery from my co-workers. It's worse that they expect me to bring treats on my birthday. How backwards is that? If i don't, I'll get flamed to an unnatural level.
This last hour of work can't go fast enough.
If you want to be a chick, a dude, a tent, or a velociraptor be my guest, but if you choose the last one you bet your ass I will have a spaz-12 to your face.