Today my mom (who by turns surprises me with her thoughtfulness and disappoints and upsets me with her complete lack of awareness for my feelings) sent me a stand mixer. I've never told her how badly I've wanted one for a few years but could never justify it to myself. There's no way she knew. But somehow she knew.
I still have a cold. It's been a full week and I'm officially fucking sick of this shit. It needs to go away NOW. NOW NOW NOW.
I'm 30 years old now. I feel pretty much exactly how I felt when I was 25 or so. Karl spent half an hour the other night trying to convince me that I'm a professional in my field and that I'm an expert at what I do and that to have your own business in this field without a college degree or training prior to starting 4 years ago is a huge deal. I don't feel it. Hopefully at some point I will. I just know he's proud of me and even if *I* don't feel that, I do feel really good about making him feel proud.