Over the weekend, J had to literally drag me out of bed. He stripped off the warm blankets I'd buried myself under, pulled me to a standing position and said firmly, "Go running. You'll feel better."
Sometimes I just crash. Intellectually, I understand exactly what it is that I need. I'll feel the gloom sinking in and think frantically, "stem the tide now!" but somewhere between the bed and the medicine cabinet, I end up hugging a pillow on the couch watching endless episodes of Law & Order SVU while popping m&m's and becoming steadily non-responsive.
When I was little, I remember someone telling me that in the vacuum of space, you could throw a baseball and it would keep going at the same rate of speed, in the same direction, for eternity. It would have to encounter something of equal or greater mass in order to stop or something traveling at a greater rate of speed to change velocity.
{Since then I've learned that this would be true in a perfect vacuum, and while space is a vacuum, it is not a perfect vacuum. Sorry. Technicality.}
The point is, that image has stuck with me. Sometimes when depression starts, I feel like that baseball traveling along the same undeviating path for eternity. Helpless. Unable to stop or change direction without some kind of outside force.
Well, on Saturday J was that outside force.
He threw those blankets off of me, dragged me to my feet, gave me a hug and then shoved me out the door.
At first, I could barely walk. My feet felt like lead and a sob was stuck somewhere deep in my chest, threatening to escape. I decided to run until I didn't feel like crying anymore.
10 miles later, I was out of water, hot, tired and sunburned. But instead of feeling like a baseball on a doomed path, I felt like I'd found my orbit.
Thank heaven my man is of equal or greater mass.
{Is that line only funny to me?}
{Sorry.}
{I'm kinda happy right now.}
Huzzah.
J and I went vintage shopping on our hot date, and I ended up with this little number. It's from the 1940's and has an adorable ruffle detail. The polka dots have faded a little, but I love it nonetheless. I've been looking at this photo deciding how I should style it in the future, and here are my thoughts:
I think it needs a cardigan to balance out the green Kate Spade tights. This one from Old Navy looks like a J Crew but only costs 29.99.
One of my wider J Crew patent black belts would help cinch the waist.
Hem the dress to show off more leg, then wear a vintage green brooch to incorporate more green. I'd be good to go.
Jared says I look like I need a beret and baguette to complete this ensemble. I think I look rather like a gondolier. But no matter. I have red lipstick and a hot date-- what more can a girl ask for? Have a happy weekend, all!
Over the weekend, J had to literally drag me out of bed. He stripped off the warm blankets I'd buried myself under, pulled me to a standing position and said firmly, "Go running. You'll feel better." 
... what the mind is capable of. Don't you feel as if greatness is just locked away somewhere in our brains, waiting to be released? That's what I've been thinking about after reading that autistic artist Stephen Wiltshire sketched this panorama of the New York City skyline after a brief helicopter ride-- from memory. I am astounded. See more at A Cup of Jo.
I can't stop thinking about this dainty duffle. A friend and I both gravitated towards it when we saw it on our book club outing last week. That subtle grey/blue color! The buttery soft leather! The amazing lining! And curses! It just went on sale today. Half off. I. WANT. IT. 
I also want this amazing green Betty Draper-esq dress. I don't know what it means, but I'm drawn to green lately, and this dress is pure perfection. Again, half off. Dang my empty wallet!
For those of you who, like me, have high end taste and low end budgets, I spotted this knock off of my Movement of Waves purse at Target. It's not real leather and doesn't come in that spectacular yellow, but it doesn't look bad online.
