As anyone who’s perused my Instagram stories more than a handful of times will likely know, I am obsessed with old bathrooms. Aside from being almost always gorgeous and interesting-looking, they also bring out a rare bit of nostalgia in me. It’s hard to put my finger on why they do, as I am not a person typically prone to nostalgia. I look at the wildly varying color schemes and the wonderful melange of designs, and they just feel serene.
The first day of my birthday week kicked off yesterday, which was spent celebrating with my family. Birthdays in my family generally look like: drive up to Englewood, hang with my folks for a bit, then across the state line to Richmond, where we feast on pizza and breadsticks from Pizza King. Back to Englewood once more for cake, ice cream, gifts, and some light bullying by my two-and-a-half year old niece, and then head home. It’s simple, low-key, and quite perfect.
One more day of work, then I’m off for the rest of the week.
READING: about to start THE HOBBIT
LISTENING: THE VELVET UNDERGROUND & NICO