What a wonderful birthday.
The day didn't start out so hot (Moose kept me up most of the night, so I was exhausted, then I couldn't find parking, so I was late to yoga, which stressed me out), but my yoga teacher helped me turn my attitude around, and from there on out it was a pretty damn good day.
We sold our second pilot of the season, my cleaning lady came and made my house sparkling, I had time to take an amazing two hour nap, and I got tons of wonderful emails and calls and even tweets. Laura, the incredible woman who cooks for me, brought me a healthy cake-y treat and these gorgeous flowers:
George has been calm-ish all day which, for him, is astounding. My oldest friend, whose fortieth birthday was exactly a month ago, sent me a yummy cake. My awesome dog walker gave George a free run, which meant I could come home late from dinner and not have to deal with crazy puppy energy.
And I had dinner with two amazing friends (WP and K of B'n'K) at a brand new restaurant in my neighborhood that did not disappoint.
And, of course, presents! From a cooking class to fascinating books (I'll tell you more about them as I read them) to the cutest measuring cups for my kitchen and watering cans for my new patio (I'll take a picture of them tomorrow and you'll see why I love them).
All in all, I really couldn't have asked for more.
But, Universe, I want to be clear. By forty-one, I expect to at minimum be pregnant. And if I already have a baby by then, that'll be fine too.