Don't be alarmed.

An anti-birthday present: L*d* G*g* playing at the gym. And by far, that was the worst thing to happen in the day. Granted, as bad as it was - and it was bad; her music always puts me in a foul mood - the rest of the day went well enough.

A typical birthday moment: crying at the afternoon's doctor's session. Talking about mentors from grad school, I didn't know how to tell her that she must have been making them up. Because nobody's ever really explained what those are, not to me, and I don't know if I've ever had one. I honestly don't think it's ever been the case of me having had one. Certainly not in such a way that I knew what to do with one when it was around for me to work with.

I keep thinking, "You know it's a good therapy session when you cry afterwards."

But on the plus side of the day, I had a fabulous vanilla latte, and got a whole host of comments to Woven From Your Brown Hair and a couple other fics I'll have to reply to shortly. So that's quite nice.