You know you’ve got the Best Grandma Ever when you come home from classes and find that she’s mailed you a homemade birthday cake (and it didn’t even get mangled in the mail, thanks to some truly impressive cake-packing technique). And you’ve probably got the Best Boyfriend Ever when (in addition to buying you badly-needed furniture for your birthday) he sneakily covers the cake in candles and sings the birthday song just for you.

Classes were fine - or rather class, since I only have one on Tuesdays. I’ve got a heap of Kierkegaard to read for Thursday, but I feel sure I’ll survive. After all, even existentialism goes down a little better with some carrot cake.