I turned 29 last Saturday, and celebrated it with a hometown lunch with my parents at the Carriage Housen (their chicken and waffle sandwich was incredible), an art opening at the Neuberger Museum of Art with Roger, and the world's best pie with cider at Mary's with Danielle. I also decided that I am straight up not making any goals for the last year of my 20s. Fuck 30 before 30. I have enough goals without worrying if I'm going to make it to Morocco in the next twelve months. (I hope I will. But I'm not writing that down anywhere.)
Sunday was all about cleaning, prepping for the week (my last at work - more on that soon!), and catching mice. We caught two. Thanks for the help, Virginia Woolf.