Oh, hey Wednesday. I'm trapped in a Gus Van Sant movie and can't get out. This endless gloom has me teetering, veering even.
Until the sun comes out (cue Annie soundtrack), I'm going on strike. If you see me and I am a cranky pants, so be it. I'm not going to be happy until I feel that orange thing in the sky on my face. And though I know this pic is not exactly sun filled, Jam rock is my favorite place to soak in that Vitamin D. If I meditate on this pic long enough, maybe the sun will come out, or maybe I will, on a whim, book a weekend there. I gotta get some of that- from lazy days to rum punches to flowy and barely there frocks. Now's good.
Hope wherever you are it's not quite as reaperish outside. I've just about had it. Cause that's what's up this lingering and lethargic Wedneday in nodded out New York. Sun, come on out to play. How many more days can you be a no show, anyway? There's only so many purses I can buy, you know. This creating my own sunshine thing is not cutting it- ain't nothing like the real thing. XO