Today! is my birthday.

But this is about yesterday, because the fun part of today hasn't happened yet, so I haven't taken any pictures. And everyone knows that Successful Blogs have pictures.

Yesterday was the last day I was twenty-seven years old.

It was probably the last day I could keep my Christmas decorations up at my desk (I say probably because I'm going to leave them there until someone actually SAYS something and doesn't just silently side eye the glitter):

I've officially gone on my last coffee date as a twenty-seven-year-old human:

I got caught taking #basic photos of my free birthday Starbucks for the last time as a twenty-seven-year-old:

And I ate shitty Mexican food at my favorite shitty Mexican place with my favorite not-shitty Mexican for the last time as someone who had not yet been alive for twenty-eight years:

I also went to the gym yesterday, for the last time as a you-know-what, but I didn't take any pictures of that because I prefer to black out and/or suppress such times of pain and hardship rather than document them. I've spent the last two weeks starving off eight pounds so that I can eat lobster macaroni and cheese and pats of fancy butter tonight without wanting to throw myself in front of a train. I'm also working on finding a therapist, to discuss my strained relationship with lobster and macaroni and cheese. (I hate health insurance, which is something I'd like to discuss with you, my gentle reader, but I'd like that to be on a day where I haven't just spent the last four hours canceling hair appointments because it started snowing and I will be GOSH DAMNED if I pay someone to brush my hair for me just to have it wrecked by nature on the way home and drinking three-dollar beers and trying to iron my new dress without fucking it up with those weird white marks that appear on everything else I iron ever. Here is my to-do list: 1. Find a therapist. 2. Learn how to iron. 3. This isn't a real to-do list.) 

WHY DOES EVERYTHING TAKE SUCH DARK TURNS. I'm in a very good mood about this birthday. I woke up this morning and stretched my toes and thought, "This is going to be such a good year, I can tell." And I know I really meant it because Morning Lindsay is generally a bit of a nihilist. 

Last night I had a dream about that girl I made up, who I keep meaning to tell you about - I just haven't picked the right words out yet. I may need to invent some. She usually motivates me to curl my hair and write things, though, so I think that's what I'll be doing. I miss her a lot, for someone I never met.