Yesterday afternoon I was searching for dinner recipes on my phone (trying to figure out what on earth to do with these little Korean rice tube things called duk that my youngest son keeps talking about ever since his grandma served them to him months ago), when my phone tweet-tweeted at me that I had an email.
Holy cow. You’d think I’d won the lottery. My reaction was as if someone had knocked the wind out of me and filled me with happy gas in the same instant.
I had to explain pretty quickly to my kindergartener, who had been grudgingly folding his clothes on the coffee table, that sometimes people cry when they’re happy, because he was starting to look pretty alarmed.
All night I had a supersized grin on my face. It didn’t even budge when I royally messed up dinner. I really need to remember not to try new recipes that aren’t even from my culture when my mind is elsewhere, elsewhere, elsewhere.
I’ve had a few more hours to let it sink in since then. Rationally, I realize that we’re only talking about a blog post here. A lot of people don’t even read blogs. And a big chunk of those that do think they’re ridiculous. (Sometimes, I agree with them.) But honestly, I think I’m more proud of this than my graduate degree.
This morning, my husband told me again how proud of me he was. And then he asked if we could please not eat the rice thing leftovers for lunch.
So we’re going out for lunch instead. We’re celebrating!