The past three weeks of planning, lying, scheduling, confirming, re-planning, re-confirming, re-scheduling, ordering, deciding, choosing, re-re-confirming and then trying to execute a succinct flow of events for my girl’s birthday have been exhausting. Not to sound too First-World-Problems-y, it really does seem that the more selfish approach of “lets just go for a nice dinner, here’s a Chanel bag” is a more viable, less complication option. Regardless, the birthday girl was still surprised, had a Snickers cake, her favorite cuisine for dinner, fresh flowers, pink balloons, birthday cards, cash, loads of presents to open, Crave cupcakes, breakfast at her most anticipated diner, and the morning off from work. I guess all in all, another successful birthday is behind us. And another exciting and challenging year to look forward to. So I haven’t really given up on birthdays. They are too sacred, too special, too underrated and over-planned. I’m just being dramatic and rightly so, for now. Happy Birthday B, love ya!
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