Friday is closing.

Number of rooms I have to pack up: 3.5

Number of boxes I’ve started packing: 0

I’m not panicking.

I had a big project at work today so I wasn’t in and out of my chair as often as I normally would - sitting in one place for eight hours has caused my knees and neck and hands to seize up. Ibuprofen to the rescue! One hopes, at least.

I’ve got about a week left before the summer season opens at Arts North but oh man I can’t focus. I’m all, HOUUUUSE and keep finding myself out buying trivets and dishes and cleaning supplies. Luckily I created large amounts of jewellery before Girls’ Night Out in April. I did manage to make extra earrings and rings, which have historically been my best sellers, so that’s good. I do want to make some more beach glass and coal pieces, and I’d love to be able to get some really original pieces created instead of just production pieces. I just … can’t. 

Oh man. I just remembered that after next week I’m going to have to start packing. I HATE PACKING. 

I’m violently excited about the prospect of a custom-built studio for working in. I’ve got drawings done to scale and everything! It’s going to be both gorgeous and functional. I bought a pile of red/white/teal fabrics for decorating with. 

We’ve been trolling flea markets and used furniture stores but it’s hard to buy for when we’re not technically in yet. We really need to live in it for a little while before we buy real furniture, I think.

And of course now I’m procrastinating by writing in a journal I have ignored for months. 

Laird and I bought this house!!!!!!!

Wait, that’s not enough exclamation points.

HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!