domesticat's blog

intended consequences

I don't know who among you reading this will be shocked and who will stand up and yell ABOUT DAMN TIME, WOMAN.

I've been facing this decision for some time, and through a multitude of tiny steps I inched my way toward it, nailing it down by unofficial degrees, but never being brave enough to take a step that would commit me fully and financially. I seeded the ground earlier this week, not explaining to my friends what was going on but saying "if I don't commit by the weekend, beat me senseless."

Back from convention-land

Oddly, it wasn't as horrible as I expected. I think I half-expected the potential housekeeper to come in, blanch at the horror, and say in hushed tones, We can make it right ... for a price!

It wasn't anything like that, really. We talked about the square footage of the house, and we talked about how frequently I needed help, and some of the crazier chores I needed help with, and what day of the week was best.

Depth: 5'2"

Admitting you're in over your head is hard. It hurts. I don't know anyone who enjoys it, and I don't know any fellow perfectionists who can do it without feeling a great deal of shame, hesitation, or remorse.

Epic, chilly journey

Yesterday, in sewing terms, was nothing short of an epic journey. I had to check my account to see a tally of exactly what the final answer was (the question, of course, being, "What do I have to do to finish this quilt top this weekend?") --

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Remember me? I live here

It has been a hectic few months. Travel enough and you have this constant, vague sense of displacement; wake up, and you wonder for a moment, where am I today? You are frequently a timezone ahead, or a flight behind, or some combination of the two, and every hotel room has an alarm clock that works in a slightly different way.

Room reboot #1: office

Scott, bless him, offered to come up for a few days around New Year's, and we've been busy creatures during that time. The New Job™ means I work out of the house, but the bad part? I didn't really have a good workspace for me, my phone, and my laptop.

We needed to fix that, but doing so meant that we needed to tear down not one but TWO corner desks, combine two computers into a single work station, put in shelving, and blah and meow and etc.

Good news: we're mostly done.

Jeff's former desk: