The itch is back. It is a terrible agonizing itch that can not be ignore. I spend my days wandering through the house, wondering how to scratch it. I know I shouldn’t. I realize that half way through, it will be painful and possibly bloody, and I will probably regret ever scratching it. But I can not resist. It must be scratched. The itch can not be ignored, will not be ignored. I’ve tried, really I have. I have paced every inch of DRY Ink trying to find a way to fight it, or at least a smaller itch to scratch. But alas, it is not to be. Nothing else will do. Monday I start on the largest project to date here at DRY Ink headquarters. Monday I scratch the mud room addition itch. Wish me luck. I’m gonna need it when I’m bleeding.
like it said in the New Testament: “And it is our desire that you may all keep the same high purpose in certain hope to the end:” (Hebrews, 6, 11)!!
I got an itch and now I have no wallpaper in the dining room and paint chips all picked out…now, to actually do the work.
Live long and prosper. Good luck.
Jeff wants our next house to be an outdated, fixer-upper that he won’t have the time to work on. So I’ll make you a room there and you can do my remodeling. You come up with the plans, I’ll buy the stuff, you do the work, and your kids can play in my pool. How does that sound?!?
And here I was thinking you were referring to your sunburned butt starting to itch, and I was all like “yo, i could totally help with that…” but then you were all like “the mudroom addition itch” and so now I’m all like “i cain’t do nuthin for that”
I wish I had itches that ended in useful things rather than just itches that involve laying on the couch munching Milky Ways and slugging Diet Dr. Pepper.