Today, a dear friend from my childhood congratulated me on turning 22, twice over!

In that honor, I will blog every day for 22 days; if I hit my stride and am in the mood, maybe I will do that twice over, as well!

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How did I spend my birthday? I got up at 4:30. Yes, I have joined this [insert adjective] crowd… Never say never, ’tis all I say. I am an extreme morning person, so the drive and the morning freshness and the endorphins are all so awesome! Who knew? Anyway, I was kickboxing at 5:15, back home by 6:25, ready for work and out the door by 7 am (DH is taking a few days off and staying with the offspring). All day I have been working hard on a paper that one of my student has been bugging me about every day for weeks. I have also been obsessively checking for any updates in the status of my two remaining pending NSF proposals [NSF will go offline end of June, as they are moving buildings (no more Balston *sniff*) and going to Alexandria]. I had a meeting with collaborators regarding pitching a white paper to another government agency. On my way back home, I will stop to grab some food; I want steak, but Middle Boy has been a little butt and doesn’t want to go to the steakhouse I like, so we’re not going anywhere because if he’s gonna sulk we may as well save some money and not spend the whole evening trying to get him to not act like a little butt while racking up the bill that could only be justified by a wonderful relaxing evening which ours will most definitely not be with Sulky McSulkerson.

There might be some consumption of Bailey’s with DH over video entertainment later this evening.

Tomorrow, I get up early-ish in order to drive another 5 hours round trip to bring Eldest back from Big Deal Music Camp before it’s time for Smurf’s barely-after-lunch 6th birthday party. (Smurf’s b-day is on Sunday, but the magician wasn’t available, so Saturday it is.)

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A senior colleague told me that I might improve the chances of getting taken seriously by some very old-school (read: assuming only dudes do good work) program managers in a Muy Macho Federal Agency by referring to my famous PhD advisor. I laughed. The colleague means well, I am sure. However, fuck that $hit. At this age and career stage, I refuse to request consideration based on who my PhD advisor was.