Crazytown

I just spent twenty minutes in a mad search of my room for a pin (as in a little vintage Owl pin I bought at a flea market on Sunday) that I literally had in my hand one minute and then had suddenly lost the next. I was trying on outfits (because, much like I did in ninth grade, I have to plan outfits the night before--well actually it's because I go right from the gym to work in the morning which means I agonize over my clothes selection for excessive amounts of time every night) and had been unappeased after like 7 different wardrobe changes, and it's already an hour past my bedtime and I was going out of my fucking head looking for this pin that I was convinced had been stolen by one of THE BORROWERS (you know those people our mothers used to tell us about when we were kids--the ones who we blame when random things go inexplicably missing) when lo and behold there it was on my floor. I mean I was losing it there for a little while. And something in my room sparked an allergy attack during all that pin-searching and now I can't see and my nose is all stuffed up.

Whatever, totally worth it because I found my pin which is totally fucking rad and will definitely contribute A LOT to my outfit tomorrow (I am putting it on my cardigan, in case you were wondering which I am SURE you were).

I think I've developed a nasty swearing habit recently.

I fucking hate sneezing.

And yes. This is how I spend my nights. In Crazytown.