Dates should happen more often, for V and I. We both feel so good. And I actually bother to put on mascara.
Now we're sitting at home, eating frozen eclairs, drinking apple cider, and lazing on the internet, because it's Friday night and we don't have to get up early tomorrow.
Nothing new to report, other than that I'm still limping (sometimes dramatically) and throwing myself occasional pity parties. Eclairs help.