Make it go away.....

I have a huge, giant, angry-looking mess in my living room.

Every once in a while I get the coloquial "bee in my bonnet" and feel like redoing an entire room. Sometimes its just PMS. Unfortunately for me (and my husband) when I get in these moods and move everything out of the room to begin my task, I'm already bored with the whole thing. Like now.

I've been "redoing" rooms since I was a wee child. I was "trading spaces" long before the show. And more impressively.....I had NO budget to work with. Usually every couple of weeks, my parents would hear the scraping of furniture across the hardwood floors, the pounding of millions of nails into their walls, and an occasional "CRASH!" coming from my room. No one bothered me about it. I guess they figured it was better than bugging them for something to do.

I was always coming up with weird concoctions for the bedroom setup. One time, I removed the double sliding doors off my closet and set my headboard side of the bed into the closet. That was kinda cool except the bar that hung the clothes was too low and I'd bump my head when I sat up. Another time I thought having the bed completely in the middle of the room would be groovy. Instead, it made the room look like an exorcism had just taken place.

Later in my life, I started using my creative decorating ideas at work. I was employed by an unfinished furniture store in my town while in high school. My job was to do the window merchandising as well as on the floor. One time I arranged all of the rocking chairs in the furniture section into a giant circle. While I thought it gave an interesting look, the owner told me to change it as it looked like the lobby of a nursing home.

Throughout my various dwellings in my life, I have also used my unique "flair" to spruce up the place. Having an obsession with thrift stores, garage sales, and enticing garbage piles, I have found an abundance of unusual decor. This obsession came from my mother who on a moments notice, while riding with her in the truck, would shout "Jump out and get that!". Where then I would race to said garbage heap , pull said item from the pile, and race to get into the car before anyone saw me. And while I would like to say how damaging it was to my teenage self esteem to have to do that ...I have now proudly passed the torch. My husband is now my own personal "jumper". Although, he does get what I call "selective blindness" when it happens.

Me (driving):"OOOhhhh....look! Grab that vintage cooler over there!"
Him: I don't see a cooler.
Me: There....the red one. With the light green bedpan and bag of old wrapping paper on top of it.
Him: Yeah....I still don't see it.
Me: Right there. Next to the potty with the bees circling around it and the bag of dirty sheets. You can't miss it.
Him: Oh....that one. Do you really need it?
Me: Yikes...get out....there's someone else slowing down!
Him: I think they are trying to pass you.
Me: Why isn't the cooler in the car yet?
Him: Where is it again?

Then comes the hour of OCD-like washing when he gets home. Its almost worth it for that show. Bless his little germ-free heart.

Well, its been 30 minutes since I've started writing. The mess is still out there and I'm no more motivated than I was before. Its a good thing my husband can turn off his vision at will....he's gonna need it tonight.