My new go-to that will continue to be my go-to until it decides to fully disintegrate into a pile of cottony dust bunnies mixing business and pleasure with the god-knows-what-else that is piling up on the carpet. I think I vacuum up most of the stuff-that-ends-up-on-the-carpet-and-Mum-would-tsk-tsk-me-if-she-saw-it-still-lying-there. I think. But I can't really see.
Seriously. I cannot see past my gut anymore without requiring some sort of kick stand device or at least two others to form a human chain.
[wear: just jeans felt hat and jacket, complexgeometries long strap tank, dotti leather legs, acne pistol short boots, william phillips 'cammay tote' and deady ponies 'mr mohawk lure']
I miss my feet. And picking up dropped lollies. And big shoes. And bending in athletically sound silence. Life has become more of a physical effort and what was simple is now complex.