From the Land of Minimal Effort
I've become lazy as all hell. Having a job that hypothetically drains the life out of you tends to have that effect.
But seriously.
I've stopped caring about what I wear. In the mornings, it's almost too much trouble to wash my hair. There's a point where if one continues to ignore her eyebrows, they become a ragged, unplucked mess.
I'm half a step removed from that point.
This morning, after awaking from a nightmare in which my coworker was trying to kill me and Bea Arthur was trying to help me, I dragged my tired ass out of bed and stared at the closet. I had an event tonight, so I had to at least try to look decent. It took half an hour, but I somehow managed to pull it together.
I even put on make-up. But just the bare minimum.
At 4:30 I dragged my more tired, worn out, faded make-up wearing ass to the hotel. Where I spent the entire dinner chatting with a nice young man. Who ended the night by asking me out.
The moral of the story: there's no point in trying to look good. Apparently I'm better off like this.
***
If you came here looking for a Friday photo, too bad. I just didn't feel like it today. Expect this apathy to continue indefinitely. Or until someone gives me a million dollars.
Whichever comes first.
2 comments:
I had a sense that you could make bare minimum look damn good. Hang in there!
Jack, Jack, Jack. You are too kind. And addled by alcohol.
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