They said this Mercury retrograde was going to be a doozie. Succinctly: communication snarls, travel hiccups, technology mutiny, old chaos resurfacing, crossed wires, things vanishing when you were certain you left them exactly where they belonged. How’s it all working out for me? My car was stolen from my driveway on Sunday. With my son’s brand-new prom suit inside, no less, and my favorite tennis rackets, which somehow feels doubly offensive. Why do I feel like this is my fault though? Why do I also continue to entertain the absurd possibility that the robbers will feel remorse, circle back under cover of darkness, and quietly return everything, suit pressed, rackets intact? Meanwhile, the dryer has stopped drying, the television remote has developed a deranged personality and now raises the volume to ear-shattering levels whenever no one is touching it, and my sister’s flight to Miami has been cancelled not once but twice. All that being said, one thing worked this week. I scored the I featured yesterday today for 25% off because is having a sale TODAY, and there are few pleasures more stabilizing than seeing something you already justified become suddenly, gloriously discounted. A small retail miracle (plus, , above, so many chic , , and for $73!). Also—and I do not use the word miraculous lightly—the concealer I recently bought, which my twin sister was coincidentally also instructed to buy by a makeup artist on set (always a sign, I think), is doing something unprecedented to my dark spots and general evidence of time passing. It is softening, blurring, forgiving in ways that feel borderline supernatural. Aging: briefly negotiated. Skin: unexpectedly thriving. And honestly, in a week where the remote is possessed and my car is somewhere living another life, that is something to be grateful for.