shirt, c/o IWYP (only five more days to order!) /// jeans, James Jeans via Dillard's
gold leaf necklace, c/o Riffraff (in store only- call & order 479.799.5763)
I've sucked this week. I'll save y'all the same old tired I got caught up in the work and my brain does nothing but the law and I looked at the clock and realized I had been in my office for thirteen hours and then I had nothing to blog about excuse, except for I really didn't spare you anything since I just threw out that excuse again, but damn it, it's true, so whatever. I really have been swamped the past two weeks. If anyone was taking bets as to when my courtroom shenanigans would get me incarcerated, check in with me on Monday afternoon. I'll buy a drink or three for whoever wants to bail me out on a contempt charge (which could possibly come from calling someone a doody face, but not in words that kind).
There's my sorry justification for being non-existent this week (and kind of last week, those posts sort of sucked). I've said it before and I'll say it again: when I get on the work binges, it takes over my entire soul and I have absolutely nothing else to talk about but the law/ragey, firey fury for mankind. Instead of writing about ways to say goodbye a la Train, I just don't write at all. Boo. I'm such a crap blogger that I think I should probably ship back my IWYP shirt to Whit. I don't know that I'm worthy of being a shot caller in my present state.
I won't send it back, though, because I love it already. Whitney sent me this little pretty (and the unicorn one!) as part of my throw-me-off birthday present (if you'll remember, her real present was coming to Arkansas and touching my face for a solid hour, which was the best hour of my life). If you think you need a Blogger, Shot Caller shirt (and I promise, you do, they're super comfy), go here and order one!
Upside to my crappy week: one of my co-workers teaches a class at the law school, which is a little under an hour north of here. It's a skills class in the area of law we practice, so when he asked if I'd come up and assist him in his final class of the year - a mock trial, no less - I said absolutely. To make it even better, he also convinced the judge that we both practice in front of to drive up and play the part of the judge for the trial. Be warned: I may use this role to let out all my work-induced aggression. Thank God I can't be held in contempt of fake court.
ALSO. My winner for the Moh bag never contacted me, and I can't get ahold of her, so I've redrawn, and it's going to live happily ever after with Chelsea from The Girl Who Loved to Write!
Just shoot me an email and I'll get it sent out!