It's okay that I am eating two huge chocolate chip cookies from Chickfila because that is a cut-down from the three I was eating.
It's okay that I have to wait to call my parents until I am not driving because they will hang up on me if they know I am driving and on the phone.
It's okay that each week of the school year makes me more stressed out and causes me to contemplate other careers. This week's option: hotel customer service.
It's okay that I am a little jealous of all those people who like wine. I so desperately wish to be in my kitchen, with an apron, cooking dinner, with a glass of wine. I pretend with my tall stemmed glasses.
It's okay that other people have different birthing plans than I do. (And it's okay to decline commenting about that because you don't want their opinion.)
It's okay to enjoy an evening alone at the apartment.
Are you doing okay?