I haven't washed my hair in three days. I've spent the past 30 minutes wondering if I could get away with wearing a beanie cap all day tomorrow. If I hadn't been scared I would be met with a scream, I wouldn't have worn makeup to work this week. I am tired of trying to put together semi-cute cold weather wear. I'm ready to wear dresses again. I'm sick of leg prisons. And come what may, next week, I'm going to wear dresses, with legging or jeggings or something. But a dress will be worn.
I've needed to clean out my purse all week...haven't done it. I need to clean my house...hasn't happened. Needed to write my blog posts...I'm slacking.
I've got a terrible case of the "I don't cares" this week. I'm just not feeling it. I'm not depressed, or sad, or anything. I just simply want to be a hermit... go to work...come home...bundle up...and turn on Designing Women, Murder She Wrote or Matlock. I don't feel like "peopling." Some days, I'm a teenager at heart; other times, I'm an 80 year-old woman. This week happens to be the latter.
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