Like I mentioned yesterday, I feel like I’ve been going a million miles an hour. Going a million miles an hour makes me feel important. Since I was little, I’ve always been an aggressive go-getter. I started my own ‘magazine’ company in fourth grade. Neigh News was a bi-monthly newsletter with informative articles about horses, interviews with local vets, and creative stories. I gathered a few local barn rats to be my writers, which I paid with pizza and Breyer model horses. I started to base my worth on the accolades and praise I received from putting Neigh News together.
These past few days have been like a marathon. Actually scratch that – I ran a marathon in October 2013 and found it enjoyable (call me crazy). These past few days have been like that time at my college track practice when I didn’t realize that my roommate borrowed my water bottle filled it with vodka and not water. I didn’t realize this until after a giant swig after doing 400 meter repeats.
The past three nights I’ve worked past 7pm. For anyone who knows me understands that this severely encroaches on my 8:30pm bed time… which is not cool. I’m trying to tap into the whole “I’m-an-adult” thing and the “it’s-nice-to-pay-bills” mindset but right now I just want to be like “WEEKEND, COME AND GET ME.” So there’s that.
Today I tossed this outfit together because I’ve worn it before and I liked the way it looks. I’m trying to downplay that fact that this is technically a fall outfit and that L calls these pants my “nurse” pants. I made it to work (and worked late) and so I’m calling today a win.
Top: J. Crew purchased from a second-hand board for $12 (similar, similar)
Bottom: ThredUp (The Limited) purchased one year ago for $20 (similar, similar)
Heels: J. Crew Factory purchased 3 years ago for $50 (exact)
Necklace: Rocksbox on loan retail $80 (similar, similar)
Today at work, we had a professional speaker come in to talk to us about how to achieve our goals. We had to each write down our professional goal, personal goal, and one crazy goal that gives us goosebumps.
Real talk: has anyone ever heard of a wubby? Apparently it’s short for “work-husband.” One of my best friends at work M is apparently my wubby. M and I started being friends because he works in collections (which is actually way cooler than it seems because his team is basically a group of frat brothers) and sits right near us. He went to school in Atlanta so he actually knows a few things about this city, but he’s from the north so he’s just as pretentious with seafood as I am.