When people ask me why I insist on putting on a full face of makeup and a pair of sneakers even if, for example, I’m home-bound because my brain fog has become so debilitating that it’s begun to impair my ability to drive, I no longer attempt to explain myself. For one, if you’re asking me that question because you honestly don’t know the answer, then consider yourself lucky. Obviously, you have never struggled to find a way to conceal your cath bag under a pair of old baggy sweatpants or spent 15 minutes on the toilet in the dark using a YouTube guided meditation in order to allow yourself to relax long enough to pee.
When I look better, I feel better. Period. There’s no surprise that my Ulta card has seen more action since I’ve gotten sick than ever before or that I’ve gone through so many different under-eye concealers that I’ve narrowed it down to the one that actually works well enough to give the appearance of entire night’s sleep (Boo-Boo Cover Up Concealer, $20.00 http://www.booboocoverup.com).
Lately I’ve taken to organizing the fuck out of my apartment. Maybe its because my mom took the keys to my Jetta and all I do is stare at are these four walls all day everyday. Also I recently read that clutter lends to negative or stagnant energy and after my life as I knew it just recently came to a standstill I’m not sure which is worse. As long as I’m moving one way or the other, I’m ok. Being stuck in the middle is not fun. And I figure at least I deserve to have one corner of this cozy little box looking like a page straight out of ‘The Paper Source’ catalog. After all, just because my brain is disorganized, it doesn’t mean my stuff has to be.