MY DAY: A GOOD DAY.

MY DAY: A GOOD DAY

 I will explain what I did 2 days before. There isn’t a day as "my" as the 24 December: Christmas, “tió”, holidays... and above all, the day when exacly 17 years before, the world recieved a great Christmas present: me!

Well, like many things in life I cannot begin to explain the day without explain the day before my birthday. Curious? The truth is that on 23th I had to take the A1 motorcycle exam. At first, when I was practicing before the test, Marta (the teacher) want me to reconsider do the exam because the road was very wet and skate a lot. At first I decided not to do the exam because the bike does not stop well, of course, I passed many times the detention line. But unfortunately over time I learned how to do it well (a few times) and so I motivate myself to do the exam ... Result: I failed to touch the line and I hurt my left hand. As Teresa Balldaura said on “Mirall Trencat”: one postcard don’t make an artist. "

The next day I woke up with a strong student hangover (the hangover involved studies, practice bike and receive dislikes), so I spent a very confusing morning. After eat my mother's chicken and a “surprise” cake from Cantoni’s secret pastry (I say this because years ago she left the cake-shop but she is still making cakes for commissions) I recharge my batteries. Was in that moment, when they gave me the presents: a weight (the gift that made me more excited) and 40 Euros (20 from my grandmother and 20 from my uncle). And the divine present!! look the photo; My father make this photo in my birthday's day...

In the afternoon I played "Age of Empires" and I enjoyed myself. At night, we bind “tió” to shit something. I received a colony (one million) and ... Indian pajamas! I think my parents gave me it because they know I do not like sleeping with clothes but it’s too obvious that they gave me the pajamas to laugh a little. If Nancy had seen it...

Well, we had dinner and my sister told me that she will go to Helena’s (a friend) house and she wanted me to go to the “local” at 11 o’clock (when the people arrive). Now, At the same time I am writing it, I think "how is possible that you hadn’t understood it, Ignasi?" But the point is that when I arrived to the local I discovered a surprise party. The gift: a cake and a bottle of wine (How can people know what I like to drink?).

If a guy (who can’t drink because he is doing an anti-acne treatment that mistreated his liver) hasn’t getting a drunk, it would have been a day 100% perfect.

After all, I went to sleep happy, with a flavor of wine, Russian vodka and Cuban lime in my mouth. A smell of a millionaire and a few extra-grams divided between the belly and the ball of my right hand. All that, of course, under my new Indian pajama: I'm very humble...

IGNASIUS BOFULLUS ASTROLUPITECHUS