If you don’t have a case of the Mondays yet, let me help you with that.
I’m depressed, friends. I worked for weeks to draw the perfect renovation plan for our house. It had everything a small family could want – a drop station, a shoe bench, an office for Tyson, a small living room, a large open kitchen and family room — even a fireplace in the master bedroom. I used every little inch of space I could find.
And then we received the construction quote to fix our house according to this perfect plan, and it was literally a knockdown and double our budget.
So I’ve been back at the drawing board, and it’s pretty maddening. (Goodbye, office. Goodbye, powder room. Goodbye, hopes and dreams.)
Also, it’s spring in Arizona. And I do not share the elation felt round the globe at the onset of spring. Spring means summer is coming. Spring means the heat is on. Spring means that yesterday we went to a park for a birthday party and I was miserable in the sun.
I have reverse Seasonally Affected Disorder. The brighter it gets, the grumpier I get. I like August better than April, because August means there are pumpkins in the store and October is right around the corner. April means that May is coming, followed by those jerks June and July.
All of which will be spent at Camp Sterling, which I am feeling particularly bitter toward at the moment.
Current mantra: if you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit next to me.
Tell me your sad renovation stories to make me feel better? Tell me your favorite pumpkin recipe? Tell me you know of a place where it is autumn year-round?
I’m going to eat more chocolate — which is not helping with my spring issues, by the way, because SHORTS! Sob.