Seasonal Affected Disorder

Anyway. Now that it's March, my Southern self cannot shake the idea that Spring is all but here, with warmer breezes and budding branches, but it most definitely is NOT. I want change. CHANGE. I long for change with every ounce of energy I have...which to say is not much these days. Not just for seasons, though that is the biggest thing, but in every area of my life. I want new clothes, new shoes, warm weather to wear them in, new toys for EV, a new (owned by me) house, a new life (same characters though). I am itching for what I feel powerless to change. And I know I don't need these things, nor that they are any kind of answer, but I'm sunk in my desire for them and lured by the tangibleness of purchasing that new sundress. If I buy it, Spring will come, right? I want a new heart too. I am appathetic and feel 100 years old. Things that once pricked my heart are barely a blip on my screen. I want a new me...the ideal me. And I want it to just happen. BAH! Reading that outloud is hilarious, isn't it? OF COURSE it doesn't work that way. But I can still squinch my eyes real tight-like and hope, right? Let's all do it. I think this is great advice for the younger generation...

Confession: I did go to H&M this morning and scooped up some super cute things for the Little Miss AND that sundress I spoke of earlier. (Don't tell Ash.) I mean, come ON. Now that we have a beach trip planned, my head is constantly dreaming of every waking second that I'll be spending on that beach, toes in sand, sangria in hand. I am planning what to pack, what to wear on the plane, etc. I cannot wait even though it is more than 10 sickeningly long weeks away.*SIGH*

Oh, and after finally going a little more LIVE with this little blog by posting it to FB, it's easy for me to want to censor myself a little more like we all must do on FB. or with our in-laws.

eh. maybe.

I'm still not going to alter my vernacular. FTS (a phrase Ash has asked me not to start using unless i'm willing to also start smoking virginia slims and wearing leather pants). Well sir, point me to the tanning bed and light'er up. I already have other forms of abbreviated verbal accoutrement that work their way into conversation, why would that one be any different? This is a judgement-FREE zone, people, and I've been buzzed with more than a few of you and have heard your mouth as well.

I'm working on a better format for this little blog other than the rambling tree thoughts it has become, so keep reading. Hopefully I it will get better. And more interesting. And thoughtful. And maybe even funny from time to time. Maybe.

In the meantime, call Holly and tell her to come see me.