I was almost in tears last night, the job, the job I've been sticking my big toe into for the past five years is 96% complete. I can move on with my life after I vacuum and dust. And I still have to buy some umpteen photo albums to deal with the pictures and scrapbook memories, but that will come soon enough. My Teens can be summed up to The Go Go's, Rocky Horror Picture Show, the death of disco and the rise of Punk and Hair Metal. My twenties were devoted to community theater, concert going and the onset of grunge. My thirties are pretty non-descript mostly I embraced every facet of my attention deficit and tried everything from rubber stamping, chatting in chat rooms which lead to dating the greater part of Seattle, doll collecting, to making polymer jewelry (which I can start doing again, now that I can see my workspace).
I awoke this morning with a Sharpie in one hand and an Almond M & M in the other. It took two solid weeks of sweating everyday until midnight, sorting, cataloguing, cleaning and then repacking the eBay stuff, throwing out bags and bags of crap, donating bags and bags of more crap and boxing up potential Garage Sale items. I've caught up with my life, I didn't think it was possible. My Chi is showing and it looks great! Alrighty, enough of that, I've got baseball today! Woo!
The New York Times wagging the dog, tsk - tsk.
"'Maybe I am the Antichrist?" Hasselhoffians beware. [via BWE]\