Today is my birthday.
Had I been a better planner, I might not have arranged my birth to fall during finals week each semester. As a rule, my birthdays tend to suck. When I was in college, I spent my birthday cramming for finals and writing papers. Now, I spend my birthdays racing to meet grade submission deadlines or finding plagiarists.
This morning, aside from the hour or so of insomnia around 3:30, I began my birthday by slapping the snooze button about thirty times, then frantically realizing I needed to be in early to write the final.
I was sleepy, stressed, crabby, and did not have good hair. I would be leaving the house in the dark and returning in the dark.
I threw my innumerable tote bags in the car, turned and spotted this:
I'd been yarn bombed!
In some of my favorite colors, no less.
I can't even begin to say what spotting this cozy did to my attitude.
By turning my head, squinting just so, I could see my lovely yarn bomb, my new bottle tree, and my neighbor's tasteful Xmas decorations.
It's a happy birthday after all.