We should have a party.
As my partner says, no matter how crazy we are, not that many people make it to 25 years, especially if they met in their early 20’s.
But how can we have a party on Pride Weekend, when I’m also in yoga teacher training until 8pm on June 8? I mean, I don’t exactly have time to cook.
I’m considering just inviting the universe to descend upon our condo with ethnic take-out food to say hi. And, “You made it.” And, “Don’t kill each other.”
I haven’t mentioned today’s thoughts to my partner yet, because she’s sitting with a bunch of therapists talking about her parts.
I’m going to eat some chocolate and then go to the gym because for some reason this makes sense to me.
Party. It really does have to happen!