Take a holiday everyone says. I had intended to. My planned and now booked and paid holidays are a mere 5 weeks away, yet I am experiencing pangs of fear and guilt. If I have a bad feeling about this trip, maybe I shouldn't be taking it? Maybe I should follow my gut instinct and not go? But I can't stand spending another weekend in those 4 walls, let alone almost 4 weeks. I don't know what to do? And it's not like I can count on Melbourne to provide me with a blissful 4 weeks of holiday weather. I'm sick of sweaters, even if I do love them.
I'm longing for days of no assignments, of no journal articles to read and regurgitate for a paper for a paper about fair value, no alarm clocks on the weekends to wake me to listen to lectures about accounting standards. I miss reading non sense magazines, I miss trips to the beach and drives along the coast line with the car window open and my hair blowing in the wind (even hair sticking to lip gross on such perfect days wouldn't bother me).
And why can't Melbourne make up it's mind about the weather? Why did wearing this dress and shoes feel so out of place on a mid November day? Why did it feel like I should have been wearing opaques and boots and a scarf and coat? AND THERMALS UNDERNEATH! When just 48 hours earlier it was 29C/84F. Yesterday it was less than half that?
Why do I spend hours hating the contents of my wardrobe, wrestling with coat hangers and mountains of clothes, not wanting to leave the house as I have nothing to wear. Correction: nothing I want to wear...
fleur wood dress
olga berg clutch