I think it's because the "what am I going to wear"/"I need to lose 100 pounds by August" chatter started what feels like a decade ago, but if I close my eyes, I feel like I've already been to New York and back.
I mean, my badge is right here on my desk. I'm still using the brown sponges I got in a swag bag last year. I keep seeing photos of BlogHers past on my Twitter stream. Wasn't I just there?
Weren't we just swilling martinis in the hotel bar?
Weren't we just kicking ourselves for paying for room service egg white scrambles and pots of tea because we missed the free breakfast?
Weren't we just staring at a suitcase full of freshly-dry-cleaned, The Hills-inspired ensembles that we never even wore because our aching feet just couldn't abide the on-trend, strappy platform sandals that went with them? The sandals that were supposed to fill people's flickr streams with cuteness?
My feet kinda hurt and I am tired. (I'm always tired.)
My point is, isn't it time for everyone to take a deep breath and relax? Say a few "oms" and turn on some Jason Mraz and stare at pictures of Matteo or something? Just so we can calm down?