When my husband goes away on business, I tend to get antsy. See, there are two ways I deal with stress:  I either eat potatoes until I explode or I  or I get a wee bit manic and go nuts and do things. Like, this week?  Bugaboo was, well, A TOTAL BUGABOO.  So I spent the weeks doing deep cleaning, throwing things out and steaming carpets.  I’m a rebel like that. Steaming carpets makes me feel good about myself. Don’t ask.

When he has been away in the past, I’ve done some strange things.  Strange, like I’ll rearrange furniture (or buy some), paint walls (or rip old wallpaper down) or redecorate things. Or I get bizarre haircuts or dye my hair a color I wouldn’t normally dye it.  One time he went away, before we had children, and I lost eighteen pounds in the three weeks he was gone because I became a vegetarian. Again.

Bummer he’s only going to be gone a week because that’s only an average of six pounds.  I need him to be away for four weeks so I can lose the whole 24 lbs I want gone.

Anyways, whenever he goes away he makes me PROMISE and SWEAR I won’t get in the middle (or complete) any projects. Or buy, say, beds?  Or paint Bugaboo’s room?  Again?  Or rip up the carpet in there and replace it with hardwood (DAMN!  HOW DID HE KNOW WHAT I WAS GOING TO DO?).

But he didn’t tell me NOT to paint Bug Boy’s room. Just not all three bathrooms in one week. Again.

I’m thinking of a steel or metallic grey.

Stay tuned. Let’s see what my manic brain comes up with.