The Birthday Post

"Come on Taylor, get your shit together. You can do this."Taylor shakes out her hands in front of her and stretches a little, trying to calm the shaking. Her anxiety must be radiating off of her in waves, because it seems to have caught the attention of her cats. Even Meredith, who generally regards her mother with a look of disdainful indifference, deigned to rub against her legs as she sat on the couch earlier. Both cats now lounge in Taylor's office, where she sits at her laptop, trying desperately to grow a pair and follow through with the idea that had come to her at 6am, making her sit bolt upright, unable to sleep, much like the morning she'd realized that her fifth album would be a pop album called 1989. Only this revelation made that once earth-shattering decision look positively mundane. Just as she had known that the choice to leave behind her country roots would ruffle a few feathers, but ultimately be the best thing for her, for herself, she knew that what she'd come up with had the potential to make her happier than she had ever been...if it didn't cost her her career.