Well I am knee deep in cardboard boxes. I can't find anything. (actually I never could) The place is a wreck. (OK it's a wreck most of the time) We close on the house in a three weeks. I know I should be going through closets and drawers and throwing things away. I just can't seem to get going. It's the same thing when ever I try to clean. I always say I have ADD (as in Attention Deficit Disorder) when it comes to cleaning. I start packing one box. I see something needs to go into another room. I get up walk into that room. About this time I forget what I came in here for and start doing something else. My sister has always said I should "pretend" that I am moving which supposedly would make me do what I am failing to do right now. Pretend or real moving is a bitch. I keep reminding myself of the 25 feet of heaven that I will have at the new house. Pictured is the unfinished attic space that we plan to convert into my studio. It is 25 feet long. I assured my husband that ALL of my craft stuff will fit into this room. Man I hope that is true. I have stuff in just about every room of this house. How does this happen? Don't answer that. Have they ever made a polymer clay tool that I could live without? Not to mention hobbies of the past. This is where I should cut down but you know...ADD and all. I figure if it doesn't get done now it will when I unpack the boxes. I think there is a circle of Hell that has you in a room with endless cardboard boxes to open. 25 feet of heaven.. 25 feet of heaven. 25 feet of heaven. 25 feet of heaven. OK I feel better now. Back to the Hell...I mean the boxes.