OCD + moving = pleasurable.

Never happier than when in the middle of a logistical tornado (sans the blue gingham dress, pig tails, and yappy dog); I’m pondering a tattoo that says “I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore”. It should be inked in body paint, since life OTP is decidedly temporary.

Excited to be settled enough to catch up on reading, have friends over for dinner and settle back into a running routine, the move is complete. The move is complete and the reinvention that happens with any major life change commences. Another awakening/epiphany looms and threatens to fall on me like a house…which makes my fashion choice for the day easy. No zebra shoes: too similar to striped socks.