Birthday "bash"

I looked at my hands, dripping with that vibrant, dark red blood that usually accompanies nasty head wounds, and swore like a sailor.
"Happy @%#^&$ Birthday to me!"
Two minutes into the first soccer game of the year, a day which I was supposed to be celebrating my 29th birthday, I get a shoulder-block to the face and have to make the trek to the walk-in clinic for stitches.
Right now, I look like Mushmouth from Fat Albert; my lip is swollen to the point that it looks like a slug that drowned in a puddle - two days before. And today - hooray - it started flaking like I had leprosy. It's very attractive, let me tell you.
So for my birthday, I got a mild concussion, a shredded lip (my teeth left several deep puncture wounds in it, including one big one at the base of the gumline) and a trip to see the doctor.
I should have expected it, that after an hour-long wait, the doctor took one look at my face and said "Oh, we can't give you stitches in there. It's too close to the teeth."
Resigning myself to my fate, I gathered up my bloodied soccer gear and began to leave.
"By the way, James," the doc called on the way out. "When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?"
Great. So, for my birthday, I got a mild concussion, a shredded lip (hey, ladeeez) a trip to the doctor . . . and a foot-long needle shoved in my arm. OK, so maybe it wasn't a foot long. But at that point, I wouldn't have been surprised if they had to administer it through my eyeball.
All in all, it was a birthday that was very forgettable. Moreso because I realize I'm on that steep slope to (and I shudder to say this) 30.
Dag. Break out the Depends and Ben Gay. My fleeting youth has done fled the building.
I did have a nice dinner late on the 19th with my girl and some friends at Ric's Grill, but a world to the wise - avoid any citrus vinagrettes when nursing an oral wound.
Yeah. Nuff said.
I took Wednesday off to recuperate, but like a responsible worker, I did make it into the office today . . . and boy was THAT a treat. I guess my story made the rounds through the office, because I had a parade of people making really bad "get beat up by a grandmother" jokes and peering at my lip from way inside my "personal space."
I got through it, though, and I'm looking forward to doing it all again tomorrow. Yeah. Riiiight.