Forced Lazy Days

I'll never deny it. Lazy days are my favorite thing in the world. Sunday morning, wake up, go to church, come home, get the jammers on, and plop myself on the couch. For precisely the rest of the day, I don't move. And I like it that way. Lazy days are my way of "recharging my batteries." Probably because the night before was way too ridiculous to even comprehend.

However. FORCED lazy days are not nearly as fun as the ones that you just "get". My body has been viciously fighting off some crazy sickness for two whole weeks before I actually got sick. This past week has been pretty rough. I was so tired, I couldn't even run up the stairs. You can imagine how much fun that WASN'T at work, since I'm a Visual Merchandiser and all I do is run around and lift lots of heavy things, like life-sized mannequins that weigh more than I do. Needless to say, I stuck it out all week, until Thursday, I HAD to take the day off. I was a gonner. Friday I got sent home because I sounded like a man named Alan, and the girls I work with wanted nothing to do with whatever it was that I had.

So I'm on my third lazy day. The first two were not lazy at all. Thursday I actually ended up at a bar at 3pm, drinking Oatmeal Cookie shots on the house. That's a whole different subject. Friday I went to the doctor, took about twenty trips to Walgreens and then went to The Stone Pony, where I think I unintentionally mass-spread my illness to about thirty musicians and a couple hundred people. Totally worth it. But today is a full fledged lazy day. I even got my lunch delivered to me instead of cooking something. I can't stand it.

I am so not the type of person to lay around and do nothing for the entire day. One lazy day is perfectly fine with my agenda, but forced ones drive me up the wall. I just want to get out and get radical with the rest of my hipster doods.

If I didn't feel like I should be planning my funeral, I would be planning an outfit for one of the many parties going on tonight. Looks like I'll be planning on what pj's to wear to bed at 8pm instead.

I wonder how many Tylenol is "too many" Tylenol to take at once. My head is killing me, and I'm in the mood for an experiment.....

Inspire

It does not take a lot of effort to make me happy.

1. Good music: It's amazing how a song can alter a mood.

2. A fabulous outfit: Nothing says "Yes I can" like a killer look.

3. A fabulous outfit that I laboriously constructed with my own two little hands ... and being complimented on it.

4. Styling. It's that simple. I throw things together that you'd never imagine would possibly work together, all while making it look good. Not to mention, I can throw in a handmade belt with a killer bow made from pleather strap scrap, or reupholster a chair for you. Really, whatever is your cup of tea.

5. Lovely Day in Soho, NY. Eat their Seared Tuna Salad or their Pad Thai, and was it down with their homemade green tea. Then tell me you suddenly have a reason to live. It's serious.

That being said. I have been constantly, daily, and consistently inspired. Really, it's like some kind of phenomenon, some kind of spiritual rush (or slap, so to speak) to force my true calling on me. The littlest things can inspire me. Like, walking down teh street and seeing a crushed stylophone cup, noting how the shape would be an incredible base of a silhouette of a dress.

Looking at high fashion & couture art and photography has been my absolute #1 biggest influence. Period. It's incredible. I get such a  rush of inspiration - if I has 12 hands, I'd create a collection in 24 hours flat. Pencils and sketchbooks can not contain this frantic whirling brain of ideas. It's not or never when it comes to inspiration. 

So that's when I realized, that what it comes down to. If and when you're inspired, do it. Right there. Stop what you're doing, and act on your inspiration. Because in six hours, that inspiration will be long gone.

Be alert. Be inspired. Create. Repeat.