I have a lot on my figurative plate. Who doesn't?
Little on the actual plate, because I'm running.
I'm perhaps the most unsettled I've been in a long time,
however feel strangely like a cup of chamomile tea.
I've adopted a new sleep habit of mostly never.
Chugging coffee, like I chug my water.
So let's engage it.
The sanity strategy.
Over the past few weeks I've hoped a plane
for a 10,000 ft high breath and a peer out at perspective.
Spent 5 hours a night doing everything in the absolute world, in my head.
(In my night dream and day dreams we're always blushing).
And now we're back around to the weekend, so if there's no time for an actual party,
how about one in the bathroom mirror with the usuals (selfie and champagne)?
I mean, a girl's got to live a little.
And like Mr. Waits says champagne for my real friends and real pain for my sham friends.
So while we're at it, half of what's keeping me up at night is all the planning and major love for Southern Design Week. This weekend marks the 10th season I've produced fashion events in this city. What gratitude I have for every, single, person who's made that part of my life so full. I can't even begin to express. that.
And as the shows kick off on Sunday I'm feeling sentimental about how far it's all come.
Be a gem you guys, if you're in New Orleans, come support these designers, artists and entrepreneurs giving everything for a dream.
Want tickets? All yours. And come see me during the shows, I'm accepting hugs and laughs and have the same to share back with you guys too.
So at 2 a.m., with the sweetest songs in my ears, I'm calling it a day. Early. Late. Time and space don't care to tell.