So, I’m twenty-seven. I don’t feel any different. I’m not even feeling wrinkled or especially tired. I feel like me.
My birthday was great. I got a copy of Emergence finally and can’t wait to get started. Jen made her amazing lasagna, and mom made an unbelievable chocolate cake. My friends at work got me a peachy Princess birthday card, and someone else at work did something very cool for me that I can’t tell you about because I don’t want to get them in trouble (nothing mortal or anything, just messed with a large product to make my day a little happier).