constance | *readies spy notebook* (Reply)

You know how sometimes you wake up with a seemingly insatiable desire to know everything there is to know about everyone you know? You want to know what they have for breakfast and what they're doing right this second and what they're planning on doing today and what they're actually going to get around to doing, what they're thinking about and how they're feeling, and you find it overwhelming because there's just so much to know and you know you'll never know it all, and in your frustration -- and with the rising early-morning conviction that you're being a little crazy -- you just decide to get over it, and so you do, you push it down and roll over in bed and sleep for a few more minutes; and by the time your snooze alarm rings again, you're ready to start another day as a more non-crazy sort of person.

Or maybe you don't do that at all. But the point is that I do, and this morning the urge is clinging to me tightly enough that I'm not being so successful in shaking it. And I don't normally feel all that comfortable demanding information from people, but just this once I'm going to indulge myself in a small and useless (and determinedly superficial) way. Today I want to know, like any internet pervert worth her bandwidth allocation, what you're wearing. In detail as macroscopic or as microscopic as you'd like to make it. Surface only, or all the way down to the skin.

Okay, go. :)