In which I am sick and puffy and tired

I got mistaken for "nineteen or twenty" yesterday. I turn thirty in December. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or not. You probably want to slap me right now, but--if you're always being mistaken for being a lot younger, it's like you never really feel like you've grown up.

Oh! By the way, if you've told me you're sending something, I haven't received it (unless I came by and told you otherwise). Something weird is going on with our mail, and things either aren't getting to us, or they're taking a really long time. This is disconcerting, to say the least.

(Confidential to the sender of the unexpected t-shirt: I plan on disregarding your instructions and cherishing it forever. : )

Linkspam! ( Cher is not Catwoman, Twilight is shooting new scenes, The Road is depressing )