Top and culottes: Vetta (borrowed); Shoes: Steve Madden; Bag: Chanel; Sunglasses: Celine
I mentioned this on Instagram the other day, but the next few weeks I'll be hopping around a lot. Last week's cruise in the Caribbean kicked things off, I'm currently in NYC this week until Friday, when I bounce to SF for a few days (to do my taxes and a fun video project) and finally, Paris for a week (and that marathon I've been training for). Needless to say, my bags are in a state of unpacked/packed limbo at the moment, my laundry pile is embarrassingly high and my email inbox, even higher.
Despite the crazy long to-do list before I leave again, I can't wait to set things into motion. I like to think I'm at my best when things around me are moving quickly and I'm working under deadline -- I think it's the former news reporter side of me kicking in. I used to love working in a newsroom (and often find myself missing it) -- the pace, the adrenaline, the feeling after a long deadline night wrapping up. I loved that no two days were the same, there was always a new source to talk to, a new location to hop over to and a new story to tell. It was chaotic and frantic and yet, somehow comforting once you saw it all in print the next day.
It's a former life that I miss from time to time -- one that I think I'll need to return to eventually in some capacity. Until then, it reminds me of this excerpt from a poem I came across on @FrassyAudrey's Instagram the other day (she has beautiful stuff, you should really go follow). The poet is Lang Leav and the excerpt goes:
"Sometimes I picture all my other selves, standing in line like a row of dominoes; separate but part of the same disjointed whole. How can I hold a single one accountable?"
