Disillusioned and Depressed? Table for One.

I love the fall. Love, love, LOVE it.

So of course, I’m ever so excited about the cold front moving in to the South and enabling me, for a few disillusioned days, to feel as if it’s actually fall. As if I actually live somewhere in which you can experience all four seasons.

I love the smell of the heater turning on for the first time after a long summer of rest. The dust slowly burning off as the coils heat up and reignite themselves for a few brief months. I love the way the trees turn brilliant colors ranging from gold to orange to auburn to crimson (Roll Tide! You know I had to.) And I love the sound of the dry leaves crunching beneath your feet. (I even love it so much I used one of my least favorite words ever, "crunch", to describe it.) The smell of a fire burning somewhere and the feel of the cool air whipping past you as you drive down the street with your windows down and music blaring. Quintessential football weather and the ability to be completely comfortable in just a light jacket.

It’s time like these that I absolutely love being alive. (Of course, it’s at times like these that I’m typically abruptly slapped back into the not so wonderful monotony of reality. But whatever. I’ll naively revel in my disillusions if I please.)

And as you all may know, to say the last few weeks have been a bit rough on me would be an understatement. I’ve found myself almost consistently on the brink of a complete physical and mental breakdown due to aforementioned financial and work woes.

But today I knew I couldn’t dwell in it. I decided (after yet another [or three] absolute sob fests [read: tears streaming down face in alarming quantities, snot somehow managing to not only run down with the tears but also clog up the nose making it impossible to breathe and humiliating to speak, face red as an embarrassed pre-pubescent teenager all dispersed throughout intermittent soul-wrenching gasps for air]) to make my mea culpa for the day the words of the late, great and grippingly profound, Tupac.

“You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, and even months over analyzing a situation, trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could’ve been, would’ve happened or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on.”

So in keeping with that I decided to do just that. "Move the fuck on."

(Or at least try.)

I kept myself busy most of the day running around doing errands, cleaning and redecorating the house. Part of this included me finally putting my “new” (bought it before I moved down here like 3 months ago) comforter on our bed. And it looks SPLENDID.

See. (And yes, I realize the blue pillow cases don’t match but we’ll be fixing that soon. Maybe.)


Don’t mind her. That’s just our dog (or one of them), Chloe. She’s harmless. See.



And in case you can’t see the print from far off here’s a close up.


I LOVE it. I just think we need more pillows. You can never have enough of those.

And since I know our other dog is feeling neglected by not receiving equal public recognition, I’ll go ahead and put one up of her. This is Asia. She’s a killer.


Oh and as if I needed yet another reason why the Boo is the most amazing, thoughtful, loving, selfless person on the planet, he gave me another today.

He knew I’d been having a rough day and so he surprised me with this!


YAY!!!! I am beyond excited to start this series. It’s all I’ve been talking about for the last few days (since I’ve heard sooo many good things about it from, um, just about everyone) so he just went out and bought it for me. Like the saint he is. I love him but he makes me look like such a brat sometimes.

(Who am I kidding? I’m freaking spoiled.)

P.S. I’ll keep you posted on whether or not I develop an inappropriate crush on a fictional teenage vampire within the ensuing weeks. I’ve been told this will happen (and considering my teenage-like obsession with reality tv and 90’s pop music I wouldn’t be surprised.)