27 Candles

I feel like Molly Ringwald today where it seems like nothing right can happen on her birthday. I really hope it ends with a cake and Jake Ryan.

I woke up this morning on the verge of tears - probably left over from being quite butt hurt yesterday when my husband told me that he had scheduled band practice for tonight. He un-scheduled it but the damage is already done. I got to work to find out that a person that I used to be super close to who I got the job here and has been here less time than me was moving into her own office. I then got an email saying that the pay cuts would go into August. At lunch I came home to Buddy having shit on the carpet (I didn't get too mad because I asked Oakley to let him out this morning and I'm not sure if he did - it's not like the dog to do that and he hasn't since he was a puppy). The afternoon is picking up. The carrot cake from the company helped. A regular paycheck would have been better.

Brian is making me dinner tonight and we will all hang out and have a quiet evening together.

Clara and Brandy get here on Friday and this is more needed than I thought it would be. My bday party has turned into a full-fledged pity party. . . and if anyone can snap me out of that it's them.

So - bring on Stevie Nicks and the baby shower. Maybe that's my equivilant to Jake Ryan and a cake.