You neek up on it.
Holy smoke - this is an amazing feeling: I'm actually HOME. At THIS HOUR.
I'm home this early, despite having worked at the gallery, done a site visit with an artist at school, and a studio visit with another artist.
Very, very whoa.
What do people even do when they get home from work this early? I think I'll put on some pajamas and... I don't know... see what's on television? Play a board game?
Right now my name is sitting patiently on the guest list at the High for tonight's events, which, had I gone, would have been followed by drinks at the W (for those outside Atlanta, the new W is the uber-hip Place to Go of the moment), under the insistence of some beautiful people who obviously cannot conceive of the fact that I'd rather spend my evening here at home, playing with my babies and my own man.
Do the youth of today even begin to understand that pajamas and bunny slippers are the ultimate luxury?
I'm home this early, despite having worked at the gallery, done a site visit with an artist at school, and a studio visit with another artist.
Very, very whoa.
What do people even do when they get home from work this early? I think I'll put on some pajamas and... I don't know... see what's on television? Play a board game?
Right now my name is sitting patiently on the guest list at the High for tonight's events, which, had I gone, would have been followed by drinks at the W (for those outside Atlanta, the new W is the uber-hip Place to Go of the moment), under the insistence of some beautiful people who obviously cannot conceive of the fact that I'd rather spend my evening here at home, playing with my babies and my own man.
Do the youth of today even begin to understand that pajamas and bunny slippers are the ultimate luxury?