I've Been Bitten!

The bug, it has bitten me again. I got home from work yesterday and just had to do some stuff. My tolerance for projects comes in spurts and jags. I find some things I want to work on and then I may be preoccupied with those things for days or weeks and then? Meh. I don't have the interest anymore and a sort of ennui sets in and I couldn't care less about projects and such.

But now, I am infected by the bug that has bitten me and I must! do! stuff! So I found myself last night after the children were bathed, storied up, and (supposedly) tucked into bed, speculating on the placement of my family room furniture. Yes, I am clinically insane. So what did I do? Well, I didn't move furniture. Not at first anyway. First I got out the measuring tape and measured the room and the furnishings, (and made snarky remarks to people when they asked me "whatcha doin'?") then I transferred all of my chicken scratch to graph paper and played "house" via paper scraps. Then, when I was happy with the arrangement of the furniture on paper, I got to moving furniture.

We've been in this house for a little over a year and I haven't been happy with the furniture placement in my family room for at least 364 of those days. But I've had bigger fish to fry, you know? Suddenly though, something just made it absolutely unbearable to have that furniture placed where it was for even one more day. I keep telling you people that I am loony. NOW do you believe me??? So I moved it all around.

And then the comments started.

The long-suffering husband: "Finally! My chair is facing the television and I don't have to crane my neck. Now if you would just place a cooler and boxes of snacks next to the chair I'll never have to move."

The teenager: "I don't like it. I liked it better the other way." (Best said in a whiny voice.)

The eldest boy child: "Oh! You rearranged everything! So now you're resting on the couch, huh? I guess it's hard work to move all that furniture. You should have called me. I would have helped you. Moving furniture is better than homework any day."

The youngest boy child: "Hey. You moved stuff." (Thank you, Captain Obvious!)

The youngest girl child: "Hey!! Who moved the furniture? I'm so confused!"

Things still aren't the way I'd like them, but I'm working with a room that has a fireplace, four windows, two built-in bookcases and a very large arched doorway. There's only so much I can do.

I can say that the rearranging bug has been tamed. For awhile, anyway. I'm too old for that stuff. Next time I'm totally writing a note to excuse my son from homework and letting him move furniture instead. It'll be a lesson in geometry. And physics.

Stay tuned tomorrow for a project that I finished and am so pleased with. It was easy and the results made me squee with joy.

Excuse me, now. I have to go find my spray paint.