I must say, I was starting to fear for my mental health a bit today. And not just because I've been agonizing for over a week whether I can ignore the horrendous exchange rate and purchase the Layered Trousers (which are now 'Unisex', perhaps because of me?). And also not because I've been imagining my Letters to Paris dress dueling my Andromache for the honour of being worn by me tomorrow. The reason is because I identify too much with well-written characters. I just picked up Nino Ricci's The Origin of Species, in which the main character needs Freudian counseling in part for his tendency to spend most of his "mind time" formulating witty answers for the long-running fantasy interviews that occur solely in his mind. Which made me ponder my use of my mind time. I've really enjoyed blogging lately, and find myself formulating my next entry whilst getting ready, walking by myself, or doing repetitive tasks at work. That's a fair amount of my mind time, so does that mean I need a Freudian, statim? Should my blog switch to the fashion blog genre which uses only pictures with no or very limited captions?
Fearing that the answer could be yes, and having already called in sick because of lack of sleep and lack of feeling well, for the first time in my life I took myself to a movie at my local indie theatre to use up my mind time another way. And it was all the therapy I needed. The movie in question was Moon, which I can't really say anything about without ruining it for those who have yet to see it, other than the fact that it is basically an enjoyable 2001: A Space Odyssey with an actual plot. Let's just say that I don't feel so alone and am okay with thinking about something I enjoy when I have nothing else to do. And also, I'm greatly anticipating the arrival of my ArtLab Space Odyssey dress. I'm just hoping it doesn't cause another fight in the running to be Steff's Next Top Outfit. All that jersey and cotton strewn about. Yikes.
