...with a little help.
From my stalwart mate, who skipped out on choking people insensible to play "Customer Service Returns Desk" with my napless monster of a toddler so I could go out with the girls.
From my friend Christine, who picked up my sorry torch of "I think i'm going to make some punkass pumpkin cupcakes with Pillsbury cake mix" when I dropped it due to hormonal preggo crying jags and managed to whip up some amazing homemade-from-scratch pumpkin cupcakes in 2 hours. And then gave me the leftovers.
From my group of friends, who totally cracked me up over dinner. Repeatedly. Whether we're outraged by women who think having a c-section at 39 weeks is the natural way of things or we're trying to catch overcooked shrimp in our cleavages, it's good to get out and be ourselves.
From Wasabi, the hibachi chef who set his hat on fire while making some really delicious food.
From My Chemical Romance, who rocked my drive home from dinner with the volume at 34. We certainly don't listen to kids' music in my car, but it's really nice to shake the bass every now and then when i'm alone. I like to kick it old school, yo. And Cleo really prefers Red Hot Chili Peppers with the volume at 8. I tried some Deathcab the other day, and she covered her ears and said, "I REALLY DON'T LIKE THAT RADIO!"
From Etsy, where I got 10 random hearts overnight. Did I hit the front page or something? w00t!
From autumn, which might actually occur before December. I had goosebumps standing outside tonight after dinner. It was awesome.
So, yeah. Help is good. Sometimes we all need it. Today was one of those days.
Tomorrow will be better.
Because I have 4 pumpkin cupcakes for breakfast.