I am going to try this again.

I say again because this is probably the sixth time or so that I have attempted to start writing again.  Now that the wedding is long over, (it went fabulously) I no longer have the added stress of having something to be doing.  My husband told me yesterday that I need a hobby.  He is right.  It's not like I don't have anything to do.  I teach from five thirty am to one thirty, then bartend randomly throughout the week. I always have an insane amount of laundry staring me in the face when I get home.  I am constantly finding new ideas for projects to do around the house. There is plenty to keep me occupied. My problem is that I don't have anything that I NEED to be doing.  Thus, I typically have approximately seven to twelve half completed projects around the house (seriously: wine rack/bar stand that never got polyurethane after painting, dresser that is missing 1/8 of it's laminate because I wanted to refinish it and got frustrated with removing the laminate, countless frames that simply need hung, spare bedroom full of wedding decor that needs sorted).  There just isn't anything or one to hold me accountable for my project A.D.D./half ass-ness.Just about the only thing I do that I am completely committed to at this point is spending a long period of time on Pinterest to find ideas for all of the wonderful projects I have envisioned that will most likely never get completed.

So, as of today, I will be using this blog as a way to hold myself accountable for all of the awesome/ridiculous projects I have in my head.  First up would be my spare bedroom.

Our spare bedroom is seriously just the store all for when we have people coming over.  We wait until the very last minute then the mad dash begins to collect all of the clutter from the rest of the house and throw it into the dark abyss of the spare, to simply accumulate.  It's embarrassing.   I mean, seriously, there are fall decorations, clothes, crafting supplies, a roaster, wedding decorations, all thrown into one room. I wish I could say that it is because we never go into that room.  My husbands closet is in the spare bedroom. Yikes, right? Here are a couple shots of shame:

It's pretty ridiculous, right?!? It looks like the beginning stages of hoarding.


Wish me luck.