I had a really difficult time getting dressed this week. Emerging from under the covers felt nearly impossible, and the very last bits of energy I had in reserve were saved for commuting to work and doing my job. Picking out a fun outfit to wear was not at the top of my mind. So, whether through coincidence or subconscious, I chose a hoodie nearly every day.

On Wednesday, following the election, I wore a hoodie that my partner had left on a chair, because it was nearby, it fit me, and I didn't want to try any harder than that. On Thursday, I chose another one of his hoodies, because I liked that it smelled like a safe place, it felt like a hug, and the sleeves came in handy when I found myself without a Kleenex in the middle of a cry.