December 6, 2007
Gloom, despair and agony on me
If you’ve seen me the last couple of weeks, you know I’m limping, moaning, whimpering and whining.
Why, you might ask, if you haven’t seen me in a while?
Let me tell you all about it. The longer I talk, the longer I can stay away from the source of my pain and agony.
It’s really all Pop’s fault. (Isn’t it always “their” fault?) We’d been having a “discussion” about housework, or the lack of, and as usual, he went off in one direction laughing at me and I went off in the other direction, mad as a wet hen.
Later, to soothe my poor ole wet feathers, Pop made a suggestion that he thought would make me happy. Actually, it did make me happy — made me ecstatic, in fact.
It’s just the process of putting his great idea into action that hurts. A lot!
Pop just idly wondered why we (meaning me) didn’t move the stuff from our really big bedroom into the much smaller sewing room and move my sewing room into the much, much bigger bedroom.
I’m pretty sure my mouth dropped open. That thought had never occurred to me before. I had often talked of closing the carport in and making me a new, bigger bedroom, but — just swapping rooms? Seemed way too simple. There had to be a flaw somewhere.
Normally, I jump right up and fly right into whatever — that instant gratification thing. I rarely stop and actually think before embarking on many brilliant ideas.
This time, I did stop — I measured and remeasured all the furniture (especially the California king-sized bed). The measurements all seemed to work. That surely meant I was doing something wrong!
After consulting with boon companion Jane, and getting her positive input, the idea was put “on go!”
The bedroom stuff, that was formerly in a 24ish by 24ish room, now is comfortably installed in an 11ish by 11ish, newly painted room on freshly shampooed carpet and it all fits just fine.
I’m wondering though, if I’m ever gonna get all the stuff that was in the 11ish by 11ish room into the 24somethingish room. At this point in time, fabric and gadgets and my cutting table and more fabric and more gadgets, have overflowed into the living room and various and other assorted nooks and crannies in the house.
I’m not sure how I’m going to get it all in the new room. And I’m really, really wondering how I had it all in the old room.
I’ve done nearly all this work myself the last couple of weeks. I started the day after Thanksgiving and have to finish before we can put a Christmas tree up.
The biggest problem now seems to be that I’m broken. And not just in half — in many places.
“Gloom, despair, and agony on me. Deep, dark depression, excessive misery.”
My new theme song...
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