Francesca and I have this wonderful thing that we do, wherein she finds joy in helping me spend my money. In other words, she takes me shopping and styles me up, and in the process convinces me to buy things that I never ordinarily would (but then end up adoring).
Like, for example, these pants. I would never have bought these. I am glad she made me buy them. (The red sweater, on the other hand, is so me I’m kind of surprised I didn’t already own it.)
And now that I’ve written about clothing, because that’s what I default to writing about when what’s going on in my mind is too much, let’s get to the real point of this post.
For those of you who’ve been following on my IG, you may be aware that I’ve been going through it a bit (ok, a lot) these past few days. I’m currently in San Jose because K has the kids for the next couple of days, and being with my girls seemed like a better idea than being alone. And trust me, I know I’m being opaque – but it’s simply because I’m not ready to write about what’s been going on. I will when I can, though.
In the meantime, I love you guys. So many of you have – somewhat incredibly – intuited that I’m dealing with some hard stuff based on…I don’t know…maybe it’s simply that you pay attention. And you care. Which never ceases to stun me; the fact that there are women out there whom I’ve never met, and who care anyway, and who reach out in support just because they can. This support may be virtual, but I want you to know that to me it’s very real. It matters. And it helps so, so much.
Thank you for that.
