I am amazing at self-care.

The nice man at the chocolate shop asked me how my day was going. "My day is why I need this," I replied, pointing at the truffles.

I selected four exquisite morsels of dark chocolate and watched as he gingerly packed them into the cutest, tiniest little box.

He pointed to a rainbow of silky ribbons behind the counter. "Would you like a bow?"

This isn't a gift, I thought to myself. They're just for me.

A smile spread over my face. "Yes. A pink ribbon, please."

  Lest you think that's all I ate tonight, let me correct you. I made sliced steak, mashed cauliflower, and mushroom gravy from scratch with the juices left over from a chicken I roasted last weekend.

Of course, dessert was the best part.

Every social work program will tell you that self-care is vitally important. Yeah... I take that advice very seriously.

Time capsule

Do you remember that story about my mom's friend? You know, the one I wrote about in March of 2011? No? Oh, that's okay. I'll give you a few minutes to go read it! Don't worry, I'll wait.

Finished reading it? Good. (I know you didn't read it.)

What I'm about to tell you has nothing to do with that story. It has to do with the disclaimer that I wrote at the beginning of that post. Go read it.

A year and a half ago, when I wrote that entry, I was in the second semester of a bachelor's program at Stony Brook University. I knew that I wanted to get my master's degree from New York University, but that was still far away.

Today I'm starting grad school at NYU.