In an hour, I turn 36.
On my 35th birthday, I ordered deli
platters and wine, and had a small party in the office. I drank a little wine
and promptly got a migraine and threw up. I didn’t know I was already pregnant,
and didn’t find out until four days
later.
Today, Lucien learned to propel
his walker backward, and my sister treated me to a pair of shoes, and I thought
of radio commercials for a presentation tomorrow. It’s been quite warm, so I’m
wearing a mix of Keiko Mecheri Hanae and Un Jardin sur le Nil. The ideas are on
their way, though the words are still haggling for time.