It's summer. Early August to be precise. (I know you needed me to clarify this for you because you were all, 'are you sure, I think it's November.') Anyway, it's that perfect time of year where summer break is about to be over for most kids and maybe the looming school year hasn't sunk in yet. So this hypothetical kid is lying on the floor, arms and legs splayed about wailing at the top of his voice, "I'M SOOOO BORED!"
Except instead of a kid, it's me. And instead of laying on the floor, I'm sitting at my desk. Either way, it's practically the same. I guess where it's different is that I have a car and a set of skills that could rival the illest fifties housewife.
Two weeks ago my boredom produced a dozen and a half pillows. We literally don't have enough beds to house all of these pillows!
See? Headboard. Pillows. No bed.
THEN earlier this week, I went to my sister-in-law's house and we painted my niece's bedroom. Her big girl room that she will be moving into soon.
We pained the top half a light pink (truly, it looked lighter on the sample), the bottom half a darker pink (Sleeping Beauty's Dress, to be precise.) and took inspiration from her bedding and painted flowers and vines all around the room.
Then, today, this happened. I couldn't breathe for a little bit.
Actually, I danced around the house and freaked out the dogs. Part excitement, part boredom.
This is my life. And while sometimes I drives me nuts. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Except maybe being a rock star. I can't sing, but I hear they do great things with that autotune.