I’m leaving my job. Oddly, I’m calm about it. I wasn’t happy; my mental health was suffering and experiencing that for the sake of a paycheck was not worth it. I am passionate about people. As a supervisor, I take pride in the position I have to impact the lives of others seriously. It’s something that kept me at my current job for two years too long. But. There are other jobs. I have other passions; those are worth pursuing. The interview process is draining, though. What are your strengths? How do you define good customer service? Tell me about you. As a writer, I find it difficult to describe who I am. I know that I’m smart, hardworking, and empathetic; but I also know it’s easier to describe myself in the manner that others see me. They seem to like me but are they side-eyeing me for not bringing a hard copy of my resume?!

Alas, the simultaneous stress and still of this time has me clinging to color in my wardrobe. I was online and someone said that in times of transition, they find that they question their relationships with clothes the most. I feel similarly, in that, I wonder am I wearing clothing for me. Am I buying clothes in fear of missing out? Is this what makes me feel good in this moment? Am I hoping that it’ll gain me credit in public spaces as someone with an optimal sense of style? I don’t know how to answer that. Maybe there isn’t a need to answer it. I do believe that I’m gravitating to color as a means of reminding myself that even in twilight or ambient light – something’s there to keep walking toward, even if we can’t see it.

A new fleece top and my trusty denim jacket for errands. We love errands ’round these parts.

For a supervisory position interview, this look exuded the Black Ms. Frizzle I wanted to be as a kid. After my years spent in England, I learned how and grew to love layering. Beneath this cable knit sweater and vintage skirt is a dress, fleece leggings, and I even put on a pair of orange socks for good measure. This, by far, was my favorite look of the week.

For a Saturday afternoon excursion for Drain-O at a too crowded Walmart, these secondhand pink gingham pants were a bright spot.

I wore this to a therapy appointment and incidentally, the top half matched my copy of A LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER by Dr. Maya Angelou. I’ve been reading it before bed for the past week.

My mohair sweater and the big Barney realness it screams, carried me through a job interview at a local coffee shop (that I thought went pretty well). How cute are these flowers?!