Sunday, September 29, 2013

My Whole Life Fits in One Striped Bag

In my former, pre-pediatric bone marrow transplant unit resident life, I had a lot of stuff. I think stuff comforted me. I didn't think anything about picking up a new lippy from the drugstore (ever seeking the perfect shade), adding another scarf to my messy pile, or oddly, buying earrings when my hair was too long to see them. (Of course, my magpie-like behavior was totes enabled by having a job at the time.)

My shiny, sparkly, comforting stuff hung from earring trees and wall hooks, languished in storage boxes under the bed, and crept into my husband's closet. While I wasn't a hoarder, I did have at least one problem in common with hoarders: I forgot a lot of what I owned. Which meant it wasn't getting used or worn either.

Now my personal care items and everyday jewelry fit in one striped bag.



Monday, September 16, 2013

Over My Dead Body It Is

Hi! Hi! HI!

taps microphone nervously

Anyone there? The room looks empty but maybe a few audience members are chillin' in the loo? That's where I hide if I want a moment of peace, um, yeah, I just admitted that out loud. If I actually give a rambling stream of consciousness speech or post, will anyone come back?

Will my lame excuse that I'm living mostly on a pediatric bone marrow transplant unit with The Absent Minded Professor a/k/a Dear Hubby, and my youngest daughter, The Teen, satisfy?

Top (Goodwill); Maxi (Amazon); Crocs (Rack Room)

More important, will purported secondhand style pics taken with an iPhone satisfy?