I appologize for going underground, M.I.A., AWOL for the past week. I wish I could say I've been off galavanting around the country or something else really exciting but I haven't. In all honesty the hormones have played a messy game with my emotions the last few days. Bummed, frustrated, cranky, it's been a revolving door of feelings not entirely of the uplifting sort that have made it difficult to be inspired to write anything. So while I'm still not back to my usual self I figured the least I could do is write about my birthday.
Last week I turned 29 and entered the last year of my twenties. I had to work on my birthday and historically Dr Love has a good track record of sending me flowers. I waited and waited but no delivery came. As I drove home I told myself I shouldn't have expected him to send me flowers and that it didn't mean he'd forgotten me. Imagine my surprise when I walked into the house to find not 1, not 2, but 3 bouquets of flowers around the house for me.
"I thought you deserved a house full of flowers," Dr Love said.
In addition to a house full of flowers, he gave me an accessory for my camera, and he made my nickname official with this....
a fleece jacket from our residency program with my name all over it. One of the billing administrators embroidered them for everyone and apparently Dr Love's request for mine got some mixed reactions; some thought it was a funny, a couple thought it was sad. Regardless the jacket is warm and I think my status as residency widow has been officially spread among the program.
Now after multiple nights of dinners with family and friends, and far too much cake, the birthday festivities are over. I'm looking forward at the next year, my 29th year, and the things I hope to accomplish in the next year, the dreams I hope come true, and where I hope to be when 30 rolls around. Here's hoping 29 is a great year and that they each get better than the last.