I even took the day off to celebrate.
And by "celebrate" I mean "burn off the last of my unused vacation days before I lose them on my job anniversary this Wednesday."
The fiancé took the day off today as well. We're painting the dining room. And by "we're painting the dining room" I mean "I'm painting the dining room while he hands me brushes and stands around all cute and says funny things and throws paint at me and I throw paint back and we get in a huge paint fight and we have to have the floors re-sanded but it's totally OK because it was all done in a spirit of love."
Or something like that.
And then I begin my long, slow, painful six-month descent to this: