A Girl About Town on the Best Saturday Morning

One happy girl about town.

Last Saturday I had the best morning, and the funny thing is, I didn’t do anything particularly revolutionary or amazing. I just spent a few hours doing things that make me feel good. One after another, back to back. It’s been a loooong time since I had a morning like that.

It was really just random happenstance because El Hub decided to take Connor to her very first movie, so they left the house at 10 a.m. to watch the new Mary Poppins together.

Me being me left to my own devices, my first thought was, “I should probably clean the bathroom, and then organize the pantry and pay some bills.” Thankfully, I came to my senses before it was too late and revised my plan to “EFF IT.” Instead, everything I did for the next three hours was something that makes me happy.

So I ran a few miles on the treadmill, did a pilates video, and took a shower.

SAY WHAT? Yup, I normally have to wait a few hours (as the sweat dries on my skin and I feel progressively crustier) after a workout before I can shower because there’s usually something pressing to attend to, like work or answering an email or making lunch or cleaning something.

This time, I played some Lizzo, jumped in the shower, sang, did a hair mask (GASP) and shaved. Then I put on jeans, a tee WITH NO HOLES IN IT (sigh, this is my life now) and hoop earrings.

I also blew out my bangs, plucked my brows and waxed my upper lip hair. And I actually did my nails — both fingers AND toes! (Essie Gel-Couture in Pre-Show Jitters)

Next, instead of putting on sunscreen and running out the door to run a quick errand, I lazily filled in my brows, curled my lashes, and, instead of putting on the usual nude lip, put on MAC’s Girl About Town.

I also spritzed a spray of perfume (Byredo Gypsy Water, my old friend) for the first time in ages.

Seriously, I can’t even begin to explain how great it felt.

Man, when people say that everything changes after you have children, they are not playing. It’s hard being needed by someone else all the time. I mean, I wouldn’t trade this phase of life for anything, and I know it’s fleeting, but it was so, so nice to feel like the me from my pre-baby life.

Sometimes I’ll catch a glimpse of myself in the rear view mirror in the car and think, “Who the heck is this person?” I don’t recognize her, except for every once in a while, like last Saturday, I’ll see myself and think, “There I am! I know her!”

Your friendly neighborhood beauty addict,



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