3 years of bliss

I worked from home today cause my agency's moving to another building. This means furiously whipping French buttercream with one hand, while checking emails with the other. There are 2 Macarune orders due this weekend so 90% of my afternoon was spent gently folding stiff egg whites into cake batter, constantly checking oven temperature and washing and reusing the mixer bowl.

The resulting product was pleasant: vanilla bean layer cake lightly brushed with orange blossom syrup, layered with fresh farmer's market strawberries, and frosted with zesty cream cheese frosting. By the end of the day I had 1 order down, 1 broken plate, 5 rounds of dishwashing done and 9 broken eggs. It couldn't be clearer how important it is to have a commercial kitchen for heavy duty baking like this. That, or a house-elf.

When the bf got home I was exhausted (mostly from dish-washing really) and teary-eyed. Between small kisses and big hugs, I found myself saying, "I hate my job" only to realize how this isn't even my real job. Funny how we say things we don't mean instinctively just because of how we feel at the moment. And that's the one thing I've always done in our relationship.

I haven't mentioned, but the bf and I reached our 3-year mark last Saturday. As this month has not only been hectic but slightly brutal, we spent the day quietly in his car, parked by the beach. Me reading with my feet resting on the dashboard, and him blowing puffs of smoke out the window. 3 years is a long time when the majority of your time's spent living with the other person. Of course we have our moments, and there were gaps in between those 3 years when I "wasn't sure." I hold my twenty-something status accountable.

At this moment, I can't say enough how very sure I am, and maybe it's instinctive but as he turns around to kiss me lightly just to remind me he's here, I just know.

Us in Chicago summer of '04

2nd anniversary gift from the bf
Custom-made ring by Mark Poulin