The Right Idea, Wrong Conclusion

Do you sometimes step back and look at your life and think “Oh, my God, probably someone thinks I’m a serial killer?”

I’m having that moment. If my Google search history wasn’t sufficient to give people the wrong impression, then they should peek into my garage, which, if I had to pick two words to describe right now, I’d go with “kill room.” Plastic everywhere. Flickering fluorescent lights. Strange stains and tools all over the place. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it seems that every year the second it gets cold, I have the urge to finish all the projects. The garage doubles as my workshop, and I am on a rampage…to finish some cabinetry.

When I went with a cherry colored stain, I did not think of the optics.

Y’all it’s going to be glorious. I am going to have so much storage. And too much display room! I’m not much of a “stuff” haver, (see: always needing a project) so I’m not sure what I’ll do on the shelf portion of these cabinets, but I’m so excited to find out!

I’m not a psychic, but I have a very strong feeling that some books will be involved. Probably more than two books. And maybe a lute? Lutes go in dining rooms, right? What’s that? You want to know if I play the lute? Of course not, don’t be silly.

I’m less excited to explain this set up to the cops. Everyone’s fine, I’m entirely peaceful, and the only thing getting “offed” is this to do list. I swear.

So, what are you working on? Please don’t say disposing some bodies, I am not that kind of lawyer.

 

 

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