when the worrying starts to hurt, and the world feels like graves of dirt

I'm blogging v. fast tonight because I want to watch Craig in five minutes, and I also want to paint my fingernails, both of which are more important than documenting what I did today. That's mostly because today was something of a wash -- I did wake up and go to Des Moines, with the intention of spending a couple of hours shopping and at least five hours writing.

Instead, I spent five hours shopping and two hours writing. There were a lot of things to get on my shopping list, and I also went to two different malls, which contributed a lot to the amount of time I spent on this endeavor. The top things on my list were a spring coat and a good all-purpose sweater; sadly, I discovered that all of the spring coats were stocked in February and have already been cleared out to make way for summer stuff. And of course sweaters were all gone in like November or something. I really dislike how far ahead of the season you have to buy things; by the time the weather is appropriate and you want something, you're a season and a half too late. Bleh.

But I did find a jacket that I liked, although it was exactly the opposite of what I initially wanted -- I was aiming for a trench coat in either black or a cute spring color, and instead ended up with a magenta raincoat. It's actually perfect for me, but so much for my attempts to grow up.

The rest of the stuff that I got is suitable for my impending old age, though; I got several new pairs of pants, and there isn't a single pink pair among them. I also got a couple of skirts, a dress, and several shirts. I've realized that my wardrobe is way too heavily focused on the super-casual side, and I have too many tshirts, so while I have time off and can spread the shopping out (since contrary to popular belief, I don't like shopping), I'm trying to reconfigure my clothing selections. Granted, it's not fun that I have time off to shop but don't have an income with which to retrofit my closet, but c'est la vie.

I did manage to write 2400 words at Borders, even though there was a live band -- I believe their name was Soundrabbit, and they were from Boulder, Colorado. They were pretty good, although I think they may have been surprised by the crowd -- after me, the next youngest person was probably in their late thirties/early forties, and most of the people were part of a knitting group that had apparently already planned to meet there. So, I was entertained and productive and caffeinated, which is a great combo.

Okay, Craig's on, so you lose. Or win, if you are glad that I am not going to keep rambling. Goodnight!