Discombobulation

Apparently when you Google images for “discombobulated”, you get a smattering of Bob Saget, question marks, and a kitten who’s sad because he can’t find a job. The above image also came up and even though it has little to do with how I’m feeling right now, it is the most artsy of the photos I flipped through and so I will Tim Gunn it.

You know when you’re in an unfamiliar place and you get on a bus and you have a vague idea of where the streets kind of are but then the bus takes one too many turns and all of a sudden you have no idea which way is North and I think that was my street but shouldn’t it be on the other end and omigod I’m in  Southeast DC all of a sudden. How did that happen?

Such is moving. I am in my friend’s apartment in her little office, clanging away. My stuff, what’s left of it after The Great Purge, is crammed in a sea of boxes in the guest room. The clothes from my suitcase are folded, rather neatly, on top of these boxes so I can stop digging through said suitcase every morning until I rip out a chunk of my hair because I can’t find any socks because they’re tucked inside my three pairs of shoes to save space. The result is a very strange clothing fort surrounding my cowboy bed (Cowboy theme. My friends are awesome but nuts). I am now Custer, if the old coot ever found himself stranded in an Urban Outfitters.

To top it off, I’m on my laptop which is ancient and, as a result, I feel like these posts are quite similar to my ramshackle update from the business center in the gorgeous La Quinta Inn. I apologize for this but I miss my bookmarks. And my file folders. And a screen that doesn’t make my eyes bleed from its teeniness.

Thankfully, my computer is arriving tomorrow and I cannot wait to set it up. Tomorrow, I will have no excuses. My posts will be elegant, thoughtful and without reproach (other than from Cones who is still missing. The Interns have put up posters but they don’t seem that upset. So like Interns). They will be filled with glossy nuggets of joy. I’ve even convinced my angelic friend Bunny, whose abode I am sharing for the next few weeks, to do a little guest post about makeup, her first true love. She’s seriously talented/obsessed. I will also be resuming Blog Watch (you blogs thought you were safe just because I got distracted by a 2,000 mile move. Ha!) and discussing things like how my hair is doing (needs a cut, thanks for asking) and my God, this post is long. Way too long for an apology. Now I need to apologize for this too?

PS That thing Cones said about the smell of chocolate in the air in Chicago? It’s true. And it’s incredible. Why isn’t this the PMS capital of the world?

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