YO YO YO. That’s how—in my mind—Timothee Chalamet and Kylie talk to one another in the w-word matrix. ANYWAY, I am sitting here in my creepily undecorated condo on a Tuesday afternoon in April in a great mood. The fact is…I’m going to have the best spring of my life.
You know why? (You all know why; you are so, so bored of me talking about it.)
BECAUSE MY BOOK WILL BE DONE. You guys, it’s not just almost done. It’s ALMOST-ALMOST-ALMOST done. Two or three weeks from sending-it-to-the-copy-editor-done. Free from three-plus years of toil and obsession done. As in, end of April done. Or, at the very latest, early May.
I’m particularly excited about this not just because I LOVE my CRAZY, CRAZY book—I LOVE IT, I’M SO HAPPY I DID IT—but because I’m about to get everything back. MY LOOKS (writing books steals your beauty). My PERSONALITY (it fully steals that, too). My FEMININITY (I currently identify as a North Face turtle fur zip-up-wearing cyborg). My eyesight (throw my nasty sunscreen-smeared blue light glasses AWAY). My interest in other human beings (during book years I legit hate everyone over 18). My social skills (currently, I only make eye contact with dogs).
I’m gonna finally decorate my BARREN-ASS apartment. I’m gonna go out. I’m gonna buy clothes—yes, even though they clutter my home. GIRLY CLOTHES. PINK SKIRTS. CROP TOPS. I’m gonna buy a new GARMENT RACK. Mine is dismantled in storage.
Oh, I’m so, so excited.
Anyway. What the fuck is this story about? Right. I’m here to tell you that SPRING BE SPRANGING, and frankly I have been shopping like a motherfucker. If I recently did something I swore I’d never do and added my savings account to my Am Ex’s payment options—well, I certainly would not admit that here.
Here is my SPRING SHOPPING SPECTACULAR—one gorgeous electronic, one perfume, one facial glowifier, and one line of $25 lounge sets in multiple colors that I will never live without again. Read on!
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