Marked woman

I'm a marked woman.

Well, a tagged one...I've been tagged with the "Seven Things" going around jland.  

I haven't managed an entry in a while, but I did manage to help Mr W install a ceiling fan into Audrey and Ryan's room without filing for divorce, so I think that is quite an accomplishment. 

Don't get me wrong. We work well together, it just that, well, we don't work well together.  Anyone that has attempted any home repair/projects with their spouse probably knows exactly what I mean.  You know, when "did you read that in the instructions?" becomes fightin' words?  When you start wishing your godfathers were Bob Vila and Norm Abrams?

I also discovered this weekend that I suffer from ADD the second I step into Lowe's.  "Look at that...oh, I need some shelves for Ben and Nolan's room...maybe I'll look at some paint for the bathroom....light fixtures!  look at the pretty lights!"  Thank goodness I stayed out of the nursery; because the sight of all those plants reawakens my inner green thumb (that I must remind myself is nonexistent) and I come home with 30 bucks worth of plants to kill in addition to the landscaping plants that will wither on my porch before ever being set in the earth.

There are other stores I suffer ADD in...Michael's (so many projects, so many plastic bags sitting in silent judgement in my closet), JoAnn (sigh, were it that I had a place to stick a sewing machine, Mr W would move out for sure), Barnes and Noble, Officemax/Staples...scrapbooking stores...

Yes, scrapbooking stores.  I have ooodles of photos.  I want to scrapbook, to turn out those perfect pages that those supremely anal-retentive women turn out, of Bobby's first tooth, but I just can't make the time.  So I go there to touch all the paper, lol. 

Let me just answer now, the tactile thing, yes, it gets me in trouble all the time...ahem.

So, 7 things, huh?  I'm putting it in my next entry, cuz it's a bit long...