Lucky in Love? Not really.

I got my new driver's license today. After one year and eight months of marriage, I finally have a valid ID bearing my husband's name. 

Honestly, I could have just waited one more year to have my license revised and renewed at once (would have saved me time and money). But I think I've done enough waiting. I am excited to get slightly annoyed at people misspelling or misreading my new name—which, to no surprise, happened earlier at the licensing office. It's ATERRADO. Not Atterado. Not Alterado. And definitely, not Alternado. It's a hassle I can live with for the rest of my life.

On a serious note though, we have acquired properties and signed legal documents with OUR family name, and these require valid IDs.

I Did It!

I think I have already done all kinds of haircuts and styles. Pixie, bob, short, medium, long, wavy, curly, side-swept bangs, curtain bangs, blunt bangs, corncrows, name it. But the most liberating of all is this:

No regrets.

Just Another Year-End Post

I think I now know what hell is like. It's where you have all the delicious food you can eat right before you but can't because your stomach is on a rather violent protest. 

Food poisoning. That's what you get for committing one of the seven deadly sins. In my defense, I was just making sure that no food will go to waste. So I ate the leftover that has been in the fridge since God knows when even though I already had two full meals five minutes earlier. 

"Yay, Math!" Said No One Ever

Every day I wake up feeling like those Instagram moms who seem to have figured out motherhood only to become borderline psychotic when faced with Rhett's homework.

Of all the evil that's happening in the world, Math is probably the worst. I have been stumped multiple times by elementary Math since Rhett started his online classes six weeks ago. Apparently, I am a moron when it comes to basic Math (read: I pull out a calculator to equations like 5+3). 

Sup?

Sometimes, I amaze myself with my adulting, considering that my hormones are still on overdrive. You see, I have written a complaint—after making countless of calls and follow-ups on not having an internet connection for almost two months—in the most diplomatic way. For someone whose life depends heavily on memes and cat videos, I would have gone batshit. (Who wouldn't?) 

But there are far more upsetting things than that. Like how the baby can sleep through a thunderstorm but awakens the moment I tiptoe my way out of the room or the husband's utterly useless nipples.