I always laugh, in a slightly rude, smirking way, when bloggers talk about seasons. You know, like, “I’m in a season of my life where X_____”. It’s a phrase I just can’t take seriously. I mean, I get it though. Life changes and shifts and some segments of it are vastly different from others. I think it’s always the seriousness with which they approach the discussion of their season. I even feel serious starting this talk, although I’m laughing at myself at the same time.
Right now I work six days out of the week. It’s good, and I’m living the life I wanted to when I quit my previous job and moved with David. My schedule, as daily as it is, builds in time for my art and writing. I’m getting more and more hands on with my life, which I really enjoy.
None of this, to be clear, is a complaint. I’m not complaining–I’m really happy with how things are sorting themselves out. The only reason I bring it up is that I work six out of seven days of the week. Which means I’m dressed, more or less, in black and white for all but one day. It doesn’t make for very interesting fashion blog fodder and I’m not someone who just dresses up in an outfit for the sake of the blog. It’s always been about showing you guys what I wear, but now that’s about to get a lot more 1) boring and more importantly, 2) redundant.