 If you were to walk into my apartment right now, you'd likely think I'd been abducted and/or robbed. It's a mess. An actual entire mess.
A flurry of sundresses, sandals and distressed denim. Piles, varying in height, of hot weather clothes. The kind you wear for hours of sweaty tours, but also the kind you wear for toasty nights of wine and twirling.
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 I've officially been in my St. Louis loft for a month, and I am proud to say I've only got a couple boxes left to unpack. Between work and a fairly active social life, I have to cram the process of making my space a home in wherever I can. No one who knows me will be shocked to learn that unpacking my books onto my bookshelf was one of the first things I did, and I was delighted to find the perfect little nook in my bedroom for this bookshelf- one I've had since I was in middle school.
 Multiple people told me that Jodi Picoult's Small Great Things is an absolutely must-read, so when I saw it chillin' on the sale table at Costco I knew I had to get it. It's timely, culturally relevant and beautifully written. Y'all, I can honestly say, I think it's one of the best novels I've ever read. Seriously.
 Having meals already prepared ahead of time never fails to make my weeks easier. Work, social outings and being on time to places is hard enough- your food shouldn't add to that. Meal prepping has also helped me develop a love for cooking nutritious food. I've shared a lot of my dishes on social media, and I always get a ton of questions about recipes so I am going to try and make it a habit to share the recipes I make each week!
Now, I am a firm believer in breakfast being crucial.  One of the many benefits I got from going through the Whole30 program is a newfound love for cooking. Seriously. I never really had an interest in spending time in the kitchen growing up, but reading labels, understanding what's in my food and actually cooking meals that make me feel good has given me the sweetest feelings of joy and fulfillment.
 If you've ever been in a relationship, or even a good friendship, you know the importance of quality time. I lived with my best friend all through college. We did almost everything together. On-campus Starbucks lines, random Mexican restaurant trips and loud music blasting sessions while outfit swapping to get ready to go out.
 A new season is the perfect time to start a new book. Seriously. Whether you're someone who always has a paperback tucked in your purse or you're just trying to figure out a way to fill the time on your trip to Thanksgiving dinner, a good book is always a good idea. Over the past few months, I've read six books that were all uniquely interesting, intriguing and impactful. I'll warn you now, all of these books aren't for everyone. A couple are pretty out there in terms of subject matter. However, I am such a firm believer in diving into the way other people live and see things to build understanding. I've given a brief synopsis of each of these books and shared some of my thoughts. I think each one is a good choice for someone, depending on who you are, what season of life you're in and what interests you. Enjoy!
 A couple of weeks ago I shared my decision to do the Whole30, a 30-day diet “reset” to find my food intolerances, habits and all the ways I subconsciously interact with food. As of Sunday, I am officially two-thirds of the way through it (not including the 10 days of re-introduction…that’s another post for another day). I have gotten so many encouraging messages via email, Instagram DM and text message (y’all are so sweet) about this journey, but I have also gotten a lot of questions about how I feel and whether or not I see any results.
The short answer is yes.  You know that old saying, “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired”? Well, it’s safe to say I’m just tired of being tired. Tired of never feeling fully rested, always feeling slightly drained and that looming feeling of not being 100 percent. To be honest, days when I feel like this are alarming, mostly because I’m only 22. However, I don’t want to feel like this when I’m 35, 53 or 87. I just don’t.
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