About a month ago, my husband called me on his way home from work to ask what was for dinner.
“You’re taking me out for dinner!” I yelled.
Pause. “Have you been drinking?”
No — I had spring fever! I had spent all day GSDing (getting stuff done), so I had no time to cook. I’m psyched! I’m excited! It’s spring!
It all started with the curtains. I just couldn’t bear the heavy red velvet (seriously) curtains in the living room, so I bought some white cotton ones that glowed in the sunlight and fluttered in the breeze. Which made the red-painted walls (yes, seriously) look so dark and drab. That evening, my husband asked what we were going to do the next day. “We could go get some paint.”
“Yeah, something light. Light blue.”
And he said yes! Next thing I knew, we were painting the living room, which is connected to the stairwell, so we had to paint that, and then the den (with the 500 pound desk that had never been moved) looked so dingy in comparison, since it hadn’t been painted in fifteen years, so we ended up painting that as well. An entire weekend shot to hell. Have you ever tried to cover red paint with light blue? Oy.
As I was bringing stuff back into the den, I realized how much old crap I had, so I ended up cleaning out the entire desk. I filled a huge garage trashcan with old papers and computer games for grade-school kids.
Over the next few days, I cleaned out the spice cabinet and the giant corner cabinet that still held Winny the Pooh baking stuff (another trashcan full — our trash guys hate me), and the appliance garage. And then I weeded the garden (another can-full).
I’ve calmed down a bit, doing a little here, a little there, but the fever continues.
I’m exhausted, my wrist is jacked up again, and my back hurts — I love spring.