For the last couple of weeks, I feel like I’m in this weird state of flux; I don’t know what that even means exactly, except that there’s a whole lot happening over here and I’m trying to keep up with the ebb and flow as gracefully as possible. I would love to tell you that I’m a go-with-the-flow effortless adapter, but the truth is, change — especially the kind that’s out of my control — just ain’t my bag, baby.

We said an unexpected farewell to a valued employee last week who took an opportunity she couldn’t refuse, which threw me into a bit of a tailspin as I put the kibosh on {much-needed} April vacation plans with C, searched for an immediate replacement, and got to work training someone new during one of our busiest times of the year. All the while, our building is still for sale and we’re wishing on all our lucky stars/pennies/other-superstitious-talismans that someone will sign a longterm lease on the empty space next door so we can take that unknown off our plate for a while.

Oh, and taxes.

So. I’ve been doing what any woman in a mini-funk would do:

Spending extra time with my amazing friends, who patiently listen to my woes, offer up solid advice, and make me laugh until I forget my worries for a while.

Hoarding bargain bin coming-of-age fiction books and devouring them in my quiet time. For some reason, reading about some flailing adolescent girl dramatically careening into womanhood always makes me feel better about my situation.

Soaking up as much sunshine as possible.

Hitting up art festivals, farmers markets, and anything else that can get me outside for a bit.

Slam-nomming fancy cheese and dark chocolate.

Contemplating a drastic haircut. {Like this one?}

Listening to my mother try to talk me out of a drastic haircut.

Losing myself in Netflix marathons; currently House of Cards and old seasons of Ally McBeal.

Matching my outfits to my favorite flowers. Just kidding, that was a happy coincidence (top left).