In Your Dreams.

Last night I dreamt that I rearranged the furniture. Actual real furniture that I own, not dreamland furniture where the chairs are made of fluffy pink cotton candy and the armoire opens to reveal a tangle of slithering snakes. I've had that dream before. This wasn't that. This dream was all about organization. In fact, if I HAD found a mass of reptiles in the dresser while dream-cleaning I would've immediately gone to work sorting and organizing; categorizing them by color with subcategories of length, scale size, and venom.

 In this dream not only did I artfully arrange and make over the entire 3rd floor without spending a dime, but I carried all the furniture upstairs and/or downstairs by myself without breaking a sweat. I was like a cross between Wonder Woman and Martha Stewart. Super strength in a wrinkle free pantsuit.

What it comes down to is that there aren't enough hours in the day. I can't even chill out in my dreams.

 Every single day includes some combination if not all of these tasks: make a new collection, fill orders, work on freelance projects, look for new freelance projects, write blog posts, take photos, stress about money, promote my business, clean the house, home improvements, be a good friend/lover/room mate....yadda yadda yadda...

Like a snarl of mismatched snakes our days can all be a little overwhelming; but just know that your brain is working shit out behind the scenes while your body rests. Now THAT is multi-tasking.

So tonight I hope to dream-talk Anna Wintour into doing an editorial in Vogue featuring Mena. Then I'll put a couple of protective coats of polyurethane on the cotton candy chair, just for fun; but in the meantime I'm going downstairs to see if one of the boys are home. I have a great idea on how to make my studio more feng shui but I need some muscle to move this leaden desk, and lord knows I don't want to wrinkle my dress. 

Wrinkle free pantsuit? Dream on.