My Husband is a super patient man. And by super patient, I mean the kind that sees the huge messes I left on the living room floor after a book-making frenzy and manages not to freak out. In fact, he managed to endure that mess (in varying degrees of catastrophic) for a whole week, which is how long it took me to get my projects finished and put away.
I can be a messy person. I have this creative momentum that leaves a destructive trail in its path. And since I am also easily distracted, it means that once my attention breaks for a second, I move onto something else—leaving a mess that I will totally clean up, real soon, I promise.
This happened a few more times and my husband was still patient, but I was feeling guilty. Mostly because since he’s a blogger and internet man extraordinaire, and the living room is where his desk and computer stuff are housed, it’s sort of like his office. And I was unceremoniously and obnoxiously taking over.
Also, he may have stepped on a crewel needle. Luckily, he just bent it and it didn’t go into his foot, but I felt terrible.
The Hubs, being the best man alive and all, suggested that I figure out what I needed and that we get those things.
So I took inventory, and decided that of the things I needed, first and foremost would be some drawers and a table top that I could adjust the height of. I dug out some drawers gifted to me from my mother, and the Hubs was good enough to take me on a trip to Ikea for a table with adjustable legs. And I thrifted the most perfect stool—not to tall or short with a nice wide, padded seat.
Sigh. So clean and organized (for now). I still need a larger cutting mat, but it’s almost perfect. Squee!