I freed Arlo’s crib from its Bermuda moving boxes today.  We both exhaled deeply.

I’ve got all engines running on decorating Daughter’s room.  So happy I had the forethought to paint that crib grey.  Her room is going to be good.  It’s going to be so good!

I also culled through my e-mail and deleted several drafts, including the one I wrote to myself with a list of all the songs I’d like played at my funeral.  Because I’m a 13-year-old emo goth girl who just got her first period.

Apparently a brief service was in order.


Self-pityingly or tearfully sentimental, often through drunkenness.
sentimental – mawkish

Oh, I’m *certain* drunkenness was involved.


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