How I Know

How I Know

I know that Bill is the most wonderful because he took me out for Greek food and birthday cake ice cream for my birthday, because he listens when I wax philosophical about transitions and getting ‘older’, because he doesn’t get too frustrated with me when I get all weepy while PMSical on my birthday, because he makes me eat pasta, wine and ice cream after I had a grey day-after-my-birthday knowing it’ll make me feel better even if I say it won’t, because he checks the mail for us every day, because he holds my hand when he makes me watch suspenseful movies (even if he won’t let me cover my eyes), because he drives us because I don’t want to and because he makes my heart the happiest heart. So thank you, bubbie, for rescuing me from grey blahs and crying with food and snuggles and love : )

Having all of that first makes it sound like I had a cruddy birthday, but it’s really just that I feel sort of not in control while in this transition time. Things are changing (and continue to change) at work, there are a lot of unanswered questions in our lives, and there ain’t nothing I can do about it, which drives me banana sandwich. For my actual birthday, Bill got the bowl the Whites got me to work in the mixer, the boss took me out for lunch and let me have enough leftovers to feed Bill and I for a week, and my parents got me a new drill since the one they gave me when I turned 18 kicked the bucket. Friends and family flooded my Facebook with birthday wishes and I felt very loved : )

So I’m continuing with my campaign of aggressive optimism (when I surface past my hormones) and praying for more patience and for the right things to happen. Won’t you join me? : )

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