Halfway to Half of a Century: Katy Day Day

OH MAN! IT IS KATY DAY DAY! And no, you did not read that incorrectly. It’s a bonus for having the last name day–every birthday becomes your day…day….you know what I mean.

For people who know me, they know I have weird issues with birthdays. I had a vague Peter Pan syndrome for a while, and have both looked forward to and dreaded birthdays since I turned 18. Some part of me must’ve thought that I had to grow up. Clearly that is not the case. Because even though I found my first gray hair last week, I am far FAR from being an adult. In most ways. In that I love my narwhal stuffed animal but pay my rent on-time. See? And, for the first time in 8 years, I’m genuinely happy to have had a birthday. My office celebrated with champagne, I got delicious Pinkberry frozen yogurt with some friends, and I go to Scotland tomorrow! But know what the best part is about birthdays??

EATING CAKE WITHOUT FEELING GUILTY!!! And my mom sent secret cake to me from my absolute favorite (favourite?) London bakery, Gail’s. I think their box sums it up:

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