It’s funny how much difference weather can make. On sunny Mondays I am happy and generally productive. I don’t mind cleaning the apartment or going grocery shopping or doing something culturally enriching such as going to a museum, visiting a bookstore, or staring longingly at the diamonds on the second floor of Tiffanys. On ugly-ass crappy Mondays like today, I am completely, 100% worthless. Today I ate left-over pizza while lying on my living room floor, actually did laundry but then got halfway through folding it and gave up, and finished reading that Patricia Marx book (see McNally Jackson, Addiction, Narcissism) while hiding under a mountain of unfolded laundry. This means that I have accomplished one half of one item (the laundry) on my to-do list for today. And because it is so crappy out and because my brain is refusing to do anything useful, I have also established a new logic in which the only way I could become productive for the rest of the day is if I were this beautifully styled woman with this perfect pink handbag and the most gorgeous shoes I have ever seen in my entire life:
I believe it is time for a nap.
Perfectly styled woman from The Sartorialist.