While prepping our guest bedroom for painting on a recent weekend I had what is probably the closest I’ve ever come to a panic attack. I have no idea what a full-fledged panic attack feels like, but I had a moment where I had to stop and catch my breath. I was so overwhelmed with the amount of crap I had to move, that I didn’t know where to start. I have so much stuff. I don’t think that I do, but I do. I totally and completely do. So I’m loving 10 Ways to Own Less.
My husband is an economist, and I am obsessed with finding out how people spend their time, and thus The New Yorker’s (long) piece on everyone’s complete lack of time was fascinating to me. The book mentioned in the article had popped up in my Instagram feed recently, and I’ve already got it on hold.
Goop has a cookbook club (which I learned about here), and it looks so beautiful. I’m on a quest to cook more from my own cookbooks this summer, so I hope this little venture of hers doesn’t spark any new purchases. But, oh man, that cocktail at the bottom of the post? The American Nightmare? That sounds too good to be true.
And finally, this is a salted chocolate diablo ice cream sandwich. Holy yum.