Come what May

On the eve of every month I take a big wad of toilet paper and erase my calendar-that's-like-a-whiteboard-thing. I use my colourful markers to fill in the dates for the next month, I write the name of the month in big, cartoony letters (the only way I can) and draw a little cartoon of myself. This cartoon usually has some basis in truth and, specifically, what I hope to achieve in the upcoming month.

Today I cleaned up my room, I mean really cleaned up--I sorted through all my shelves, drawers, and papers, reorganized my closet, cleaned my washroom, dusted and mopped, and I made my calendar for May.

Behold my May cartoon.




You will notice that I am wearing pin-striped (yes, pinstriped) pants which *ehem* symbolizes my starting of my first nine-to-five job this Monday. The funky green purse represents the funky green purse I just bought--it can hold everything from my lunch to anything I'm reading, but looks way sexier (and grown-uppier) than a backpack. The clock I am holding up, well, I'm sure you can figure that one out.

This is what my wall that holds my calendar looks like.

My get-organized wall:



May.
In May, I begin a new chapter of my life. It may play a huge role in how the next 5 years of my life will turn out. It may bring a crushing blow to all my hopes and dreams. May holds much power. I cannot wait for it to begin so that I can strut in the dressy-clothes wardrobe tha I splurged on, mess up my ultra organized room with a flourish, mark up my calendar, and lose the weight I've gained as a cause of having way too much good food (been to Lahore Tikka House every week this month) and not doing all that much except having a gay ole time.