I share a house with four boy-men. When I’m not marching through a grocery store, I’m probably standing in the kitchen, dirtying a profound number of dishes in a neverending quest to produce food for said boy-men, or pulling nearly forgotten laundry from the washing machine, despairing over the number of unmatched socks in my ‘socks without matches box.’
What? You don’t have one?
I retain a few shreds of sanity by spending my children’s inheritance on expensive coffee and taking a lot of pictures of trees. Sometimes I write stuff down. And occasionally I sit in front of the piano, rather than standing beside it teaching little people about the difference between quarter notes and eighth notes.
Seriously. They are not the same.
Other than being extremely picky, highly indecisive and easily dissatisfied, I’m pretty much a gem of a human.