Once upon a time, there was a little 11-year-old girl who loved candles. She surrounded herself with them and would light them to make herself feel better (yes, even at 11, I was psycho). Unfortunately, this little chillun also loved–and still loves–to take naps. And one fateful day, she carelessly decided to combine her two passions.
Don’t worry. I didn’t burn my house down. But when my mom found out that I fell asleep with my candles lit, she told me I wasn’t allowed to have any candles until I was 12. I was resentful. How dare she. But I got over it and the candles on my birthday cake were the first ones I had contact with in a long while.
Since it was basically banned, I now have an innate love of candles. As long as they’re not vanilla-scented (vom), I’m game. Yesterday, I brought home a rose-scented candle… not a huge fan of roses (they smell like old people, to me), but it is soothing, nonetheless. I’ve been oogling the Bath and Body Works page and they have several colorful and delightfully scented options. I’m sure nothing could help sooth my frazzled mind better than this baby. It’ll fly me to La Jolla and back and help me not be such a spaz. Obsessed.
