Dressing up

My biggest sign of coming out of a mini-depression is an overwhelming urge to do some serious cleaning—which I often need to do, as when I'm depressed I let the heavy cleaning go. To say this place needed a good dusting would be an understatement. But many more things are back in their appropriate places, and there are a few more to go.

My friend R invited me out dancing tonight at a fetish club, an invitation I was happy to accept not only because I haven't been dancing in ages—probably haven't danced since blackholly and theoblack's New Year's party, which is a crime—and also because my knee-high boots, which I bought some years ago, finally fit. Yay losing weight and fitting into boots! They have a 2" heel but it's very square and really quite comfortable. I'm not usually a napper but I'm feeling a disco nap in my future.

These two things together mean that I've been cleaning my house in a bra, short shorts, and boots. The cat, however, is unimpressed.