Man, I was doing so well with blogging frequently. What happened, huh? Well, I could tell you what happened I suppose. This week was spent running around campus, speaking with teachers, filling out forms, waiting in lines, losing my pen, and subsequent fantastic email exchanges with professors about said pen. My head has just been swirling all week, sometimes murkily, like a swamp, and sometimes deliciously, like a big crockpot of chili. My senior year is just beginning, and I'm fighting the itch to already be finished. I keep fluctuating between sheer terror and extreme eagerness to look for a job, an apartment, a new home town. It looks like I'll be challenging myself a lot this semester, both personally and academically, which is good, but I can feel those undeniable thoughts of being overwhelmed and wanting to roll around on the floor weeping while listening to slow Avett Brothers jams. I may have actually done that several times this week. Maybe. I can't confirm or deny anything. I did though. My feelings about boys and work and senior year and writing and my social life have been a little (very) crazy and frustrating and "what even" lately, which I'm sure you can tell by how incoherent the text in this post is. I've been drinking a lot of coffee. In fact all I want right now is a pumpkin spice latte. And maybe some rain. But definitely not cuddling, no way. Maybe.
I wore this outfit last night for Fashion's Night Out. I wish I could tell you I had a hyper-glamorous night full of eager street style photographers, but honestly, my sister and I just walked around for three hours brooding behind people in high shoes and weeping over beautiful expensive clothes. Just another Thursday, amiright.
"Look ma, no hands!"