of shamrocks
so it's march...
and usually that would mean tomorrow i'd spend the day celebrating spring cleaning. and i do mean celebrate. i love a tidy home and i get a thrill out of making goodwill piles. it's exciting to get rid of uncessary objects. however, tomorrow no such thing will happen. for one, moving meant getting rid of A LOT. i live in a studio now. not only do i need to keep it clutter free for my sanity. i'm working on bringing in pieces i will keep for a long while. i've got discerning eyes people.
and most importantly, it is still freezing in savannah. it feels like winter here, and to be frank, i am over it. i'm so tired of biking in low 40s, high 30s. i'm tired of coming home with frozen fingers. i should have retired my peacoat long ago! i think my peacoat lost its button in protest to this weather.
and then there's st. pat's! i want it to be warm for the drunken revelry in the morning. i want to wear shamrock knee socks and a mini. i can't drink when i'm cold because it makes me colder. my comfort on st. pat's is serious business.
oh lords of the warmth.
hear my cries.