It started Wednesday. Birthday wishes.
Then the roomate at the stroke of midnight as Sept. 7 became Sept. 8, and my twenties ebbed as my thirties flowed. [Inside joke: I hate that word pairing because it's SO overused for things that just should not be described thus.]
6:20 this morning: My little brother and my ever-surprising father, who asked in all seriousness how old I was turning today. 30, Dad. Turning 30.
7:20 am: Danny (when I called to wake him up to alert him to a new rental on Forrester St. Hey, these rentals go like hotcakes on the magical street!)
8:00 am: My oldest sister
8:05 am: Rob
8:10 am: Maggie
8:15 am: Moc
Blackout while I taught my class, then...
11:10 am: My brother-in-law, crooning Happy Birthday and pretending to be Johnny Depp (a nice birthday surprise, because my sister and I think Johnny's hella hot)
11:11 am: Catherine, tacked on to a work request
11:12 am: My Thinks-Johnny's-Hot Sister Voicemail
11:15 am: Banners at work (pretty lively, for this place!)
11:16 am: E-greeting from Owl-Pooh
1:50 pm: Singing and cherry pie at work (At least the pie was good! Flying Star, by request.)
3:00 pm: My mother, more singing, more "I remember the morning you were born" stories ("It all started in the basement...")
4:00 pm: Hot-for-Johnny Sister in person
I feel so ... well ... goddamned loved. Crazy. And the day's not over!
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