Grr-rr-rrrr-r... the boy child is riding my only nerve tonight and it is rather RAW. He and his buddies had a rocking time playing 2 solid days of paintball this weekend. When he got home on Sunday, everything and I mean everything got dropped in my livingroom. Now, mind you, this boy-man could outpack Susanne Sugarbaker on her BEST day. Boxes, bags, duffles, sleeping gear, camping gear, paintball gear. GEAR, GEAR, GEAR, piled in my livingroom since SUNDAY night. And my car, well, just let me say that it smells like dirty, wet socks and it's just a messy. Now, I believe the heat has brought out the worst in me and I currently have the patience of a half baked gnat. And being the sweet person that I can be, I asked him NICELY to please clean up the MESS before I had the opportunity, which he would not relish the results. I got a snide look, he rolled his eyes at me and then proceeded to grudgingly pick up his pile of stuff.
Sigh, I feel like Attila the Hun's mother, just as mean and just as ugly.
Pressure everywhere, work, home, contractor, house, kid, husband...I need a Calgon moment.
And then, there was this post on Legacy about what happens to your stash after you die. That post was sobering. My stash would probably end up in the landfill as no one even has a clue that it's literally worth thousands. The DH thinks it's a hobby. My son is only interested in my finished work, which actually is very nice. My SIL commented that I had enough to start my own shop (well, yeah, and it's all one of a kind). I can't leave it to her as her tastes differ greatly from my own. I am thinking that I will give it all to the EGA and let them duke it out.
I wish it were cooler and I could stitch. I think it would make me feel better.
Sorry for the rant. I broke my promise to myself to only post NICE things. Oh well.