4:30.

Guest sheets.

Today my mom is coming to visit for a day split into two parts.
She will get here today around noon and leave tomorrow around noon.
My family is very organized that way.

So clearly, I've been organizing like a madwoman, cleaning every crevasse of the apartment, buying new sheets (aren't the flowers so cute?), and getting wayyyy too much food just in case. When in doubt, begin hording I always say. I'd like to think that's sound advice.

My cleanin' socks.
Also: the kitchen floor always looks filthy.
Also: unflattering angle.

Yesterday at a meeting at school, I commented to a co-worker that it was really the first time a parent has come to stay at my house. Really what I think I meant was that it's the first time a parent has come to stay at a place that I'd consider my home. 

You know what I mean?

I think subconsciously I feel like I have to show her how I am a for real adult. Sometimes I have moments where I'm doing adult things (buying a couch, anything teacher related, that whole gambit)(yes, I just said gambit) and that voice in my head is whispering, "They're buying it! Don't screw it up now!" I was telling another great lady at school about this feeling (after buying a couch... ohhhh there'll be more on the couch) and she commented that it never really goes away. That she still feels like she's putting on a great show of being an adult and she's fooling everybody. 

I used to always suspect that real adults were hiding something. That they weren't as sure as they sounded, as wise as I thought. And I think I get it. You never really stop feeling like that I suppose.

Derek: They're fluffy.
me: They hydrangeas!
Derek: That's not a real word.

Lots of musings as my brain wakes me up at 4:30. 
That's right. 4:30.
In the morning.
Dance party?
Dance party.

<3 S