I tell people all the time, anxiety is a blessing & a curse. The last two days were blessing days. These are the days where it presents a little more like ADHD/OCD, with a side of "it has to be done now, or you're a failure in life".
I know that doesn't sound like a blessing, but allow me to explain (also, this may not be in the exact order it played out, but it sums everything up).
~We bought a new dresser for our bedroom, which led me to move the entertainment shelf that was in our bedroom to the basement. ~That led to me moving the little table we had in the basement holding the cable box back to the living room as a drink table for the leopard chair. ~Which led to me changing out the coasters in the living room to more theme-appropriate ones (this is our music room, so now we have music coasters). ~This led to me realizing I could empty a box in our dining room (just off the living room) that's been sitting in there for 3 years, because the stuff in it needed to be on the basement entertainment shelf/in basement storage. ~Once I moved that stuff to the basement, I emptied the dryer (also in the basement) of all the towels, and headed back up to the bedroom. Folded and put all of the towels in the linen closet in our en suite. ~All bed linens that were in the top of our linen closet (which is very awkwardly built, you kind of have to angle stuff under the door frame to get it onto the shelf), I moved into the dresser, where they're more easily reached. This also required me to learn to properly fold a fitted sheet, because I always look up the best way to fold things to maximize space. ~That allowed me to move things on the floor of the closet up to the top shelf. ~Which prompted me to decide to unpack the two big boxes that have been on the floor of the closet since we moved in. ~That led to me creating a trash pile, so I started a garbage bag. ~Which led to me gathering all of the trash from the rooms upstairs, and changing the litter box. ~While emptying said boxes, I freed up a 3-drawer organizer that was perfect for all of the loose hardware we have around the house, AND let me use my new label maker again! ~That allowed me to empty/sort several ziplock bags of said hardware + misc. stuff that had been bagged up during the flood.
All of that, on top of doing my regular everyday kitchen cleaning (it's my morning meditation) both days, and 2 loads of laundry (plus cooking 3 times each day, AND making a batch of tortillas and pitcher of sweet tea).
None of this is to brag/look for praise, but more because I feel like we always look at downside of our mental struggles, and don't often celebrate our strengths/accomplishments that come from how our brains are wired.
Sidenote: I said a while ago I was going to try and blog more, and you see how that panned out, but don't be fooled by my published blogs. I've written several. Two are still sitting in drafts, waiting for the day I decide to publish or delete. The others have been deleted for fear of judgement, or because I just changed my mind about what I wanted to say. I might just not be built to be a regular blogger. Maybe once I settle in to a more regular routine... but that's a blog for another day. 😉
One of these days, I'm gonna get back to blogging about shoes. Today is not that day.
So, it's funny my last blog was about finishing a renovation, and completing a dream inside our new home. Now, it's all upside down. Let me catch up those of you not connected to us on social media, whether you're a follower of my blog, or a complete stranger that's just stumbled upon this Katybug world.
On Wednesday, I was working on laundry in the guest room - which is in the basement - folding towels. While doing so, I decided to sort through the box of linens that we'd moved into the closet while doing the never-ending task of unpacking/arranging a new home (we're in just over a year, now). As I got deeper into the box, I noticed stuff was feeling damp. The first couple items I thought, well maybe they're just 'cold' from being down here now that the weather is changing. As I got to the bottom few items, it was clear they were definitely wet. I pulled the last blanket out, and saw the bottom of the box was soaked through. Dread set in. I pulled the empty box out of the closet, and saw the carpet soaked through. There wasn't much left in the closet, but I pulled the rest of it out, and that's when I saw the water damage/mildew on the walls/closet door. I knew we were looking at a possible/likely call to insurance.
Cut to 2 days, and multiple specialists later: it's bad. As it was said to us "Not what we would call a massive job, but it's not small." They haven't started yet to see how intense the work is actually going to be, but what we know:
The leak is from the dishwasher being installed improperly by the previous owner. Whether that was said owner, or a 'professional' (if it was, he doesn't deserve full quotes) that did the installation, we have no idea. The cabinetry in our kitchen is pretty heavy-duty. So much so, that the plates surrounding it trapped in the water from leaking to the kitchen, and it instead went into the walls, and downstairs to the basement. We may not ever know how long this has been going on, but they'll be able to tell us more once they start pulling up flooring and seeing how much water damage there is/how far it has spread.
We're now in a holding pattern for all of the calls to be made, details to be finalized, and most importantly: asbestos test to be ran. Our house was built in the 70s. If there is asbestos, we for sure have to leave while they do all of the repairs. That could be a few weeks, it could be a few months. We literally will not know more until they start tearing our house apart.
We just bought this house a year ago. We never would have bought it if we knew this dishwasher install had been half-assed. It breaks my heart to say that, because I LOVE our house, but why would we buy a house over our planned budget if it wasn't perfect (it was, and that's why we did.)? We've seen several comments/questions about us not getting the house inspected properly: we did. Whether the inspector should have caught this, I don't know. Again, we're in a year and the water damage has just shown up, so how do you expect the inspector to know? Maybe she should have crawled under the counter and inspected the clamp? I doubt that's any inspector's process, but who knows. I'd imagine they look for a leak/signs of water damage, and move on. I can tell you our inspector was over the top meticulous with her walk-through, and the things she noticed (we were there for the entire thing), so I can't imagine this is her fault. Not being an expert, I have no idea. I just know it's not ours, and here we are paying the price.
Our reality is unknown right now. I think I've been fairly open about my anxiety on this blog, but just in case I haven't, and for new readers, I struggle with it daily. I am UBER high-functioning anxiety. I will break myself before I let anyone know something is wrong. I need to make everyone happy, I need everything to be as perfect as I can make it, I need to show everyone how amazing I am: ALL OF THESE, AT ALL TIMES. On the flipside, what no one sees - for the most part - are my private (in a bathroom stall, sneaking into an empty room, etc.) anxiety moments. I do not do well with the unknown. It causes me to overthink everything, I get short of breath, I start to panic (depending on the situation), I get shaky, etc.
So, here we are. I'm blogging this in my "perfect" calm house.
My brain is in overdrive. First and foremost are my children. Gus is a 19-year-old cat. Everything in my being wants to keep his everyday exactly as he knows it. Minus our current situation, I told Steve for years: once we moved to Canada, I wanted to hold off on any other changes. Gus has lost his Grandpa, 2 siblings, gained a sister, and moved to Canada in 4 years. An old man deserves some calm, and he hasn't had it for years. Harvey (our 11-year-old cat) will be loud and dramatic about any change we throw at her. It will make me sad, as her Mommy, because I am overprotective, but I also know she's a bit dramatic (I don't know where she gets it from), so I'll get her through it.
People keep saying "at least you'll get". The "gets" are yet to be determined, but while I hope we'll be thrilled with the end results, most of them have no clue what it's like to be forced to renovate. We've wanted it, yes, but who would ever say: "You know what? I'm redoing this house tomorrow. I've not consulted anyone, or thought about my choices, or discussed any of the process, but YAY RENOVATION!" Again, as an anxious person... I want time to plan/think things through.
It's all going to work itself out, I know. I'm going to do my best to stay calm and positive through this process, however long and painful it's going to be. Right now though, I just need it all to get started, because the unknowns are driving me out of my mind.
FINALLY, the transformation of the bonus room over the garage in our new house is complete!
When we decided to put in an offer on the house, we knew this room would eventually become my office, because if I was going to be working from home, I needed the larger office of the two of us (this is, of course, before COVID, so we had no clue Steve would be working from home, too). The more I kept thinking about turning this massive room into justan office, the less sense it made. I mean, I LOVE a good spacious, open room - but this one would've been overkill. I thought, "Well, I could just do like a sitting area on the other side.", but we've got places to sit and relax all over the house, one of which is a library, which is what I'd likely use my seating space in an office for (reading). So I started thinking about what else I could do. Suddenly, it just clicked. We didn't have an extra room in this house for me to convert to a closet - which had been on our list of "wants, not needs" - why not just treat this massive room as two rooms, and build a closet/dressing room from scratch? So, now that we had a plan, I couldn't WAIT to get started!
The room needed a total transformation. It was used as a bedroom by the previous owners. So fully carpeted, ugly green walls (sorry, I guess I should say "not my choice of color walls" - what's ugly to one person...), dated curtains, etc. I have a Before shot without the carpet. We'd already pulled it up before I thought to snag one.
So, first up was the flooring. Before you ask - we did the floor before the painting, because I had the hands available to help with ripping up carpet, removing the doors and tracks from the closet, and get started on laying the floor. It took a few oopsies to get down the installation, so it was slow-going the first couple nights, but once we got the process down, it went super fast. I did most of the full boards myself, and had help from a friend for the boards that needed to be trimmed down before being installed. The final result was SO much better than the carpeting.
Next up, painting! As you can see in the pictures above, the green was pea soup, and just NOT in my palette of acceptable wall colors. Since I now knew I was doing two rooms, I needed something neutral that would work for both rooms. Grey fit the bill. Once I got the walls painted, I started putting my office together. That meant unpacking all of the Oz boxes, and starting to arrange the shelves. By this time, Christmas was getting close, so I got to put up my Oz tree while I worked, as well. I took a picture of the final room, so everyone could see how pretty the wall color was, with the Oz stuff able to shine.
The only thing that was missing was the perfect chair. Lo and behold, a few months later, I found that, too!
Now, it was on to the big project (I know, like reflooring and painting aren't big enough, right?!): the closet. Now, I'll start this with a little backstory about me. My whole life, I've had fanciful dreams about what my house would be when I "grew up" (still waiting for that part to come). When I was little, I knew my house was going to have a spiral staircase, and a rotating door to get into the kitchen. Each room was going to have its own theme - one of which was a beach, with a hammock. As I got a little older, in my teenage years, it was the dream of having a house on the lake. We would pass them all while we were on boats in East TN, or North GA, and I would just fantasize about that being mine one day. As I got into my 20s and 30s, the one thing I knew I wanted was a room I could turn into a closet. Well, here we are, I'm pushing 40, and two out of three ain't bad! I'm on a lake, and I have my "room as a closet"! For these pictures, I am just going to show you progress pictures, with captions under each.
So first was putting clothes into the already-existing closet, and purses wherever they were out of the way.
Next came building the shoe rack.
Harvey appreciates shoes as much as her Mama.
I quickly realized I had enough room to fit two more shelves, so I put those on order while I continued to work.
Next up was the a-little-bit-of-everything rack. I also realized I had room for another jewelry shelf, so I put it on order with the additional shoe racks.
Coming along!
Jewelry rack, with rack #2 underneath it.
Two more racks of shoes makes it complete!
The vanity table was a nightmare to try and figure out. I searched and searched for tables that would fit around that floor heater, to no avail. Finally realized I had enough depth next to the shoe rack to use a desk, instead. It's worked out great. I have hair accessories in the left drawer, makeup in the right, and my extensive perfume collection and vanity mirror up top!
I added the bench next. Harvey approves. It has storage inside of it, so all of my boots are stored in there.
Then came the rug... I'm certain this is additional approval she's showing, here.
Then hung the mirror. This mirror was actually a stand-up that I converted to a wall mount, and I love how it turned out!!
Artwork was up next. I found a Canadian artist on Etsy that I fell in love with, and asked her to customize a few of her pieces for me. I'm saving those as a surprise in the video below, and will credit her at the bottom of this blog. Her artwork is exactly what floats around in my head, and what I would be sketching for myself, if my health conditions hadn't taken away my ability to do so. She's fantastically talented, and I encourage you to check out her stuff!
See that small-ish stack of purses in the first picture? It turns out to be way more that it looks like when you start color-coordinating all of them...
I built the purse shelves from some scrap lumber that my neighbor had. Cut it down (actually I didn't cut it down, but...), painted it, added brackets, and mounted on the last free space in the existing closet. The shelves need to be a little deeper, for how big a lot of my purses are (you'll see in the video), but I made it work. Lastly, I added a small laundry basket next to the sweaters, and the dressing room was complete*!
*Confession, I want to change the curtain "door", and I might add more artwork on the other side of the shoe rack, plus I need lighting - but complete for now.
So, finally... here it all is together. I've rearranged the clothes in their sections a couple times already, and probably will again. My OCD-tendencies and anxiety result in a lot of rearranging in any project I ever take on. Currently, the dresses for example, are by strapless, sleeveless, short sleeved, then long sleeved - and by color within each of those. I might change it to just color-coded, period. We'll see...
ENJOY!
As far as where everything came from - the desk was from Amazon. Chair came from Wayfair. Closet is all IKEA, other than the bench (Amazon), and the rug (Overstock). The artwork is from BrookeJadeStudio. I'll add the image here, so you can see all 4 drawings better than you see them in the video (I wanted Allie to be the feature, there).
So, the only thing left is to get at least one more bookshelf or storage cabinet for the office, so I can display the rest of my Oz stuff/spread out what's currently on the shelves, and have a place for all of my supplies, craft stuff, etc. The big projects are complete, and it's on to the next room!
So, I've spoken over the years in this blog about my long distance relationship, and I THINK about my immigration journey... but long story short if I haven't: 4 years of trying, and here we are: it's time to move to Canada.
The plan for the last 2 years has been for me to continue working for the company I was working for, and working remotely from home. Suddenly that plan fell through when everything I'd been told for 2 years got ripped out from underneath me. I had to make the unfortunate decision to put in my notice, because I now had to figure out what my life was going to be in Canada with this new twist. My income, health insurance, house plan, etc. was all gone thanks to an unfortunate need to not be truthful with me by a company I'd been with for 13 years. It was (and still is) heartbreaking, but life has to go on.
So the full court press started of getting to Canada as quickly as possible. Despite me wanting this to happen within a couple of weeks, too much has to happen when you haven't even gotten started on the end game. I began packing, and tying up loose ends. Hired a moving company (Trans Canada), and just tried to keep moving. My fibromyalgia did not cooperate, and everything came down to the wire (I was packing literally as the truck was being loaded for Canada). Finally all of the details were done, and it was time to go.
This is when the drama started (not that there hadn't been enough to get to this point). I went to Atlanta for the Xtina concert, thinking I'd have a day or two to finalize everything at the house when I got back in town before Steve flew in for us to drive back to Canada that week. I got a call from him on the way home from ATL on Monday that winter weather was heading in for the NE States and New Brunswick at the end of the week, and he had to stay in town to wait on my furniture to be delivered before he could go anywhere. So basically it was either I drive by myself to beat the weather, or we wait on him and pretty much guarantee we go through a lot of bad roads. There wasn't a choice. I packed up the car Monday night, and hit the road Tuesday morning with the two cats.
Tuesday's drive went slowly at the start because I was so tired from driving from ATL, plus packing all night that I kept having to stop because I was so tired. Once I got a 5 Hour Energy things went smoother (I don't do well with caffeine, so I was taking teeny sips every 10 minutes or so, but it served its purpose). The problem was, I was so mentally exhausted that by the time I made it to Cincinnati, 10 hours of driving and Harvey at her peak of "I'm over this drive" put me at my limit. I knew I couldn't stop at Cincinnati because that would put me in a horrible position for the next day, so I pushed myself to Columbus and stopped for the night.
Wednesday we set off and hoped to make up time. Did pretty well as the day started, then started getting calls. We'd been working with Trans Canada about not knowing whether I would be in town by the time my goods got there or not. They told me Steve could sign for everything as long as they had all of the paperwork signed by him, and a copy of his passport (which we got to them). Steve showed up Wednesday to sign for everything, and border services wouldn't clear it because the goods weren't his, plus he didn't have the B4 form filled out (which Trans Canada told us nothing about). Trans Canada tried to get him first to lie and say they were his, then tried to get him to pay the fee just to get everything across the border so they could keep moving. Steve, of course, refused both. He called me to fill me in on what was going on, then I called the rep for the company to see what he said. He claimed we'd had the conversation about Steve lying to customs the whole time. There NEVER would've been a chance I would've agreed to this, given we've been going at this for 4 years. I'm not going to do anything to put my immigration in danger. Then the dispatch officer called me and claimed the reason the shipment was rejected wasn't because of us not lying about the goods, but because Steve didn't know my status as a resident in Canada. At this point I lost it, because I told him we'd been working on this for 4 years, there was ZERO chance he didn't know that, so I knew I was blatantly being lied to. And between Steve and I, we were getting a different story every single time. I set back out on the road, and Steve spent the rest of the day on the phone with border services/the warehouse, and they both told him to stop talking to Trans Canada, because they were flabbergasted at the position they'd put us into. So I'm talking to Steve at the end of the day Wednesday, completely exhausted both mentally and physically, going down a mountain in the middle of the night, and suddenly I see in my rear-view mirror Harvey has escaped her carrier. That was the straw. I burst into tears, hung up on Steve, and tried desperately to find a place to pull off on the side of a mountain to get her back in her carrier (those familiar with past blogs know my fear of heights, so this was a worst case driving scenario). I got her back in, and we drove for another 2 hours after that/finally stopped for the night in Cromwell, CT.
I knew Thursday I'd have to get up early because I lost almost 3 hours from the drama the day before. I hit the road at 7. That day was pretty uneventful, driving-wise. I get to the border and...
"You can't move to Canada."
I was numb at this point. I let them tell me all the reasons I supposedly hadn't done things right. Once they were done, I asked them if I could go outside to get Steve the keys to the car so the cats wouldn't freeze to death (he'd come to the border with a friend to help me drive the last leg). They were ok with that, so I went out there and immediately told him to get our immigration lawyer on the phone. 2 hours later (the story is too long and complicated to tell) we hit the road towards "home". 5 hours + a dinner stop later, we were able to go to bed. A 15 hour day for me.
Friday morning, we knew we needed to go to the warehouse to get the paperwork, go to border services to get it stamped, then back to the warehouse to get the goods released. After that, it would just be getting it unloaded at the storage unit. We figured maybe 3-5 hours. Wake up Friday morning: blizzard. Left the apartment at 9:00. Should have taken us about 20 minutes to get to the warehouse. Took us 3 hours. The snow hit almost a day earlier than they were expecting, and was a lot worse than called for. So lots of people didn't have their snow tires on their cars yet, therefore were causing a bunch of wrecks/delays. We had a few things we'd planned to do after the move, and that all got thrown out the window. Thankfully, the actual process of paperwork went super smooth. We got to the storage facility at 3:00, and figured we'd be done around 6:00. We left there just before 8:00. It's a long, frustrating, painful story that isn't worth going into at this point because of how long this blog already is. The one positive thing I WILL say about Trans Canada is the driver was amazing at his job. Problem was, they had him as the driver/unloader, so everything got done wrong in the storage unit, and they had to start over once he saw that was the case. At the end of the day, we had to pay an extra $1500 for the delays that Trans Canada had caused. On top of the thousands we'd paid for the move itself.
12 states. 2 provinces. 4 days. I told you all we'd have an incredible story for you by the time all was said and done, and this is it... in a VERY condensed version. Apparently 4 years of emotional turmoil wasn't enough.
To give a current update: we're all here in Halifax, and our only current dilemma is the fact Harvey's nose is torn to shreds from busting out of her carrier (the zipper cut it all up). It's looking better every day, I just hate her being hurt. But both kitties are doing well in their new (temporary) environment. Here's hoping we find a house soon so we can start our new lives in Canada!
I know better than to proclaim my "health goals" out loud, because that's an instant jinx. My health goals are going to take a LOT of mental work for me to reach (3 years of in-your-face stress has broken me). The physical part is easy, once you break the mental.
That being said, as a very small step, I am going to attempt to start cooking every meal for myself again. I find it's very hard to cook for one. I've cooked for two most of my adult life (and, God-willing, that'll be true again soon). So when I have tried to cook just-for-me over the years, I end up with leftovers, that usually go bad in the fridge because I don't want the same thing again, or I forget about them.
As a result, I've resorted to a lot of simple dishes, or heat-and-eat. And, of course, eating out. I've also noticed when I DO try to cook, I feel like I have to follow a recipe a lot of times. And I have forgotten many of the things I used to cook on a regular basis. My "chef" instinct has faded tremendously. It's still there, don't get me wrong. I can still follow said recipe, but not have to break out the measuring spoons/cups for tsp, 1/2 cup, etc. (any chef worth her salt can eyeball those things). But that natural ability to see ingredients in the fridge, and put a meal together has left me for the most part.
Most of my life, I've been one of those people that knew while I may not always be happy about the weight I was at, I would never be obese, because I'd reach that "frustration level" somewhere around size 8-10-12, and hit the gym hard, to never let it progress to an uncontrollable state. And up until about 2010, that theory held true. I'd usually hit 8, get fed up, get down to a 6- and maintain that for a respectable amount of time.
Something changed after that. I've spoken about my anxiety before, and I don't want to use it as a cop-out for laziness, because there has been a lot of that, but I think it has been the driving force. From 2012, forward, I have gone through a divorce (essentially, though not a legal marriage), moving, beginning the immigration process, my father's death, my step-grandmother's death, my cat's death, changing paths on the immigration process and starting anew, a couple of friends' deaths, family moving in with me, adopting a new cat, my step-grandfather's death, family moving out, and my paternal grandmother's death. Some of which was traumatizing, some just life-changing, but all at least came with a bit of warning/preparation time. Then we capped it off with losing my sweet puppy (of almost-11 years) VERY unexpectedly. Which I still can't fully process. It's like I haven't really had time to "settle" my anxiety in 6 years before the next thing happens. And my health has suffered.
So tonight, I am taking a VERY small step toward the old me, and cooked an improvised/healthy dish. Baked shrimp egg rolls. Nothing but olive oil, shrimp, garlic, spinach, broccoli slaw, and lite soy sauce. Didn't even use the egg for the sealing/basting. So, maybe it's just a roll.
It's been a while. A full year since I posted a shoe blog, and almost 8 months since I posted ANYTHING. A lot has happened. Namely, two surgeries for kidney stones that took about a month 1/2 of my life. Life in general, then a couple of crazy work months. And here we are.
The last couple of weeks have been the hardest hit on my anxiety I have ever had in my life. Not my emotions - that was (still is) easily my father's death. But my anxiety. I am going through something I have only shared with a small handful of people, and it is completely consuming me right now.
The thing is, I have learned over the years to be a high-functioning anxiety-ridden person. Anxiety makes people uncomfortable, awkward, annoyed, etc. It's easier to hide it than it is deal with the consequences of the real world (ESPECIALLY in a professional environment). I'm great at smiling/laughing/joking when inside I'm screaming. It's something I've - in a very obtuse way - written about before. I DO consider myself to be an emotionally strong person. The more I've thought about that over the years, it's because of that wall I've learned to put up. So when "normal" emotional situations present themselves, I can deal. When anxiety situations present themselves, I go into that same "strong" mode, but my brain NEVER shuts up. Ever. I can do 8 million things to try and silence it. Usually at home, I'll have a TV show playing on the computer while I play a computer game. Right now, I have a TV show playing while I write this - and yes occasionally am having to pause the show so I can clearly think through a thought. All the while, my brain is saying "What about...?" "Did you think about this...?" "What if...?" And if there is silence around me? Forget about it. I'll likely end up making myself throw up from the stress.
People that don't have everyday anxiety don't get this, and never will. Everyone understands anxiety. Everyone can have anxious situations. But for it to be all-consuming, where it can make you physically ill... not many people in your day-to-day will get that. They'll tell you to think about other things, or find a way to distract yourself. Which as you can see in my above paragraph, I certainly try to do. On "small" anxiety days, it sometimes works. In times like these - it barely touches my thoughts.
SO...
That heavy intro aside (I promised y'all I was going to be more real going forward - this is me being real) - I decided to distract myself today by dressing the way the-artist-formerly-known-as-Katie would. Heels, matching outfit, and purse. I had a new dress to wear, and perfectly matching Betsey heels and purse.
And about halfway through the day decided to blog the shoes, as I would have back in the day. So, here they are!
(I specifically direct you to Smile Amazon, because YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE)
Review: 4" heel. Fits 1/2 size small. As you all know by now, a 4" heel is nothing to me, so these would be UBER comfortable, except the heel part of the shoe is SUPER tight, so rubs a blister on the side of my foot if I don't remember to stretch it out a couple times during the day.
This dress** is so simple, but I love it SO much. It's very Parisian, to me. In fact, it makes me think of the last two episodes of Sex and the City, when Carrie first gets to Paris:
As much as I hated how cheesy they ended the show (even though I loved the actual end result), I was (AM) obsessed with those last two episodes, because EVERY. SINGLE. OUTFIT. was perfection. That was most of my (and plenty of other women's) obsession with the show, was the fashion. Then the hilariously brilliant writing was a bonus. But OMG, those last two episodes. They could not have been any more perfect, fashion-wise. And I'm sure they went all out, given they knew they would never have to worry about budget again (until the movies came around). PER.FECT.ION.
**Sidenote: that one picture of my dress took me sitting in the grass to set up my camera on my tripod/adjust angles/self-timers, etc. for maybe 2 minutes: and resulted in an hour+ long allergy attack. The joys of being allergic to outside, y'all.
Anyhoo, I know this blog has been all over the place. But that's just where I am right now, so I'm sharing it. See y'all... I dunno when. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in another year.
