You guys. Thanksgiving is like, tomorrow. I feel like if there weren't holidays I'd forget that time was passing. I legitimately cannot remember how old I am ever. I just worked myself into a mini panic because my birthday is in January and I can't remember if I'm turning twenty-three or twenty-four. (Twenty-three. And I had to use a calculator.) And the only reason I thought about my birthday was that my brother's is on Thanksgiving this year which means it's cake-baking time. (That was a trick, nerds. It is ALWAYS cake-baking time.)

I'm thankful for so much.
My cats, my mom, my Darryl, my friends.
A place to live. Free places to pretend to live in sometimes.
That I get to vote and go to school and that I am not persecuted for the dumb things I say.
Straight A's (JUST SAYING.)
And so so so many little things that make my life happy every day.

Kindergarteners. 

Fuzzy, ugly robes and comfort reading on sick days. Little Women for the 100th time.

(Who else cries when Jo cuts off her hair? All of you? Yeah I know.)

DENIM DRESSES, and being a supermodel. 

Sneezing and pressing the shutter button at the exact same second.

I like to think of this as a reminder from the universe to BE HUMBLE, IDIOT.

Warm chai on cold nights.

The moon, the sun, the tides, the stars.