So, you know how sometimes I'm all 'I will FINISH all the things before starting MOAR of the things!' and other times I'm all 'Start moar! Start moar things! Finish none of the things!' Well, just now I'm in the Starty phase, not good at all.
Anyway, after completely abandoning THAT I moved on with THIS:
in this fascinatingly exciting post - how can I fail when I have so many books on dressmaking? How hard could it be?! Answer: quite hard, because I haven't read any of the books. I should like to take a moment's pause here, while you contemplate the fact that I am actually, a qualified Librarian. A qualified Librarian who can't be bothered to read. But I need to be SHOWN, being SHOWN is the key. I don't have TIME to learn a new skill (I don't know if you can hear the whine in my voice, but let me tell you - it's there), I'm too BUSY with watching Sherlock all the time and looking at FLOOR TILES.
Also, I couldn't upload it on my last post but here's a picture of the display what I made at wurk. I am ludicrously pleased with it, but it did take me A MILLION YEARS:
Also fellas, Husband and I braved the shops to price more flooring (you might want to take a break at this point to let your heart settle down after all the manic excitement that reading my blog must bring into your life. Brace yourselves lads, it's about to get EXTREME.) Anyway, we had a massive fight (in Ikea, obviously, because no-one has ever left Ikea without having a fight with SOMEBODY) because Husband was all 'Make a decision about the lights in the kitchen!' and I was all 'THESE LIGHTS!' and Husband was all 'I don't like those ones' in a really huffy voice, and I nearly stabbed him with a Helmsblug Potato Peeler. So, we left Ikea sharpish and found ourselves in Next. And here's what happened:
Me: *wanderin' around, looking at stuff, minding my own business* Husband, I've got an itchy bit on my leg that I think might be A HORRIBLE DISEASE......
Woman Next to Me Who is Not Husband: Em......
*massive embarrassed silence*
*woman looks at my leg*
*I miserably look at my leg too*
*woman looks faintly disgusted*
*I nod sadly and am FURIOUS with Husband for wandering away and getting me into this awkward situation*
*woman shudders and walks off*
*I slope away to find Husband, who is standing, awestruck, in the lighting section*
Me: HUSBAND YOU WEREN'T EVEN THE LADY WHO WAS STANDING NEXT TO ME! SHE WAS SOMEBODY DIFFERENT! YOU MADE ME SPEAK TO A STRANGER! THEY MAKE VIDEOS WARNING CHILDREN ABOUT THAT!
Husband: *in a breathless whisper* ...look....