I bathed today. This is more than I can say for the last four days of Thanksgiving Day Suck. I brushed my teeth. What more does the world want? I’m pretty cliche when I get smacked with dips of depression. I don’t eat. I don’t talk. Don’t shower.

I also shop. I’m not sure if that’s a cliche depression thing or not. It makes me feel better though, more than the not bathing part. And when I do shop, it’s for pretties. Coming from a house of five girls, I uniquely appreciate how the silk lining of a new dress slides over my skin.

Since I started my favorite job back in February, I’ve worn dresses every single day minus two because of unfortunate dry-cleaning delays. Both of these days different ladies smiled warmly with the mention of, “Pants? I’ve never seen you in pants.”

I don’t wear pants to work. I wear pretties. I was supposed to go to Philly on business this week, but poor Peanut is adjusting enough to life without her brother. I can’t leave her for two days at this point. Lucky for me, the best job in the world comes with the best boss in the world.

So I’m staying in New York City this week, all for the best because I’m going to move on Saturday. I don’t have an apartment yet. But as we have seen in the past, once I’m in the zone… it’s on.

I’m tired of lovers wreaking havoc on my zone. One midtown apartment coming up, watch this blog family.

I’ll be feeling normal in no time. Particularly considering my new pile of pretties.