The Real Reason I'm Not Master of The Universe
Oh, heyyyyyyy, internet. Remember me? I used to blog here and stuff, but lately? Oh, I’ve been spending all my time eating bacon, drinking craft beers and barreling through shopping malls in hot pursuit of a one-year-old who keeps unfolding cashmere sweaters and flinging them on the ground, taking advantage of my distracted state as I stalk the perfect pair of lilac cords.
(Related: I just spent 15 minutes on the J.Crew website. And then I had to make a cup of tea to down my lusting sorrows because my life is not colour block perfection with lovely tousled hair and librarian chic glasses. Sigh. This may have something to do with the fact that I’m currently stuck in a hole of non-productivity.)
So, anyway. All this to say, I am super behind in ALL OF THE THINGS, but that ends now. I’m buying a productivity book. And I’m going to read it. I’m kicking my ass into gear. I’m taking advantage of all this free babysitting. And I’m going to do stuff. Lots of stuff.
It's going to be major.