P.A.D.

I’m confessing something to you right now in the hope that I may not be alone in this terrible, terrible disease.

I am haunted every time I open the freezer for some ice cream, seeing visions of months worth of freezer meals. My palms get sweaty whenever I am within a fifty-foot radius of a pallet. Suddenly, old mason jars and wooden doors are piling up in my basement. I don’t even know where they’ve come from.

My vocabulary has become become peppered with the phrase, “I can make that”.

Preceded by a direct break-down of the reality that I, indeed, cannot.

I cannot make my own bookcases out of old crates. I cannot make my own baby clothes out of my old tee-shirts. I don’t keep any old tee-shirts. I cannot plant an indoor garden using recycled soda bottles. We don’t even drink soda.

I cannot be the only one who is suffering from this overwhelming desire to make my own finger-paint followed by the ensuing panic of, “When will I do this? Why do I need to make my own finger paint? Why do I need finger-paint in the first place?!?!?!?!”

I will the first to self-diagnose.  I have P.A.D.

Pinterest Anxiety Disorder, that is.

I am assaulted by images I love, overwhelmed by the enormity of such images, bowled over by the idea that I could possibly make those ideas a reality, followed by the quick decline into anxiety-twitching madness, knowing full well I will never make a stuffed owl pillow.

Who needs a stuffed owl pillow?

I’m fairly certain a recovery from such illness has not been scaled yet.  It’s too fresh a wound, too new a sickness.

But if there was a twelve step program, I would be the first to sign up.

After I finish buying twenty-two pounds of flour and 20 bottles of baby oil to make moldable sand.

See what I mean?

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4 thoughts on “P.A.D.

  1. I am sorry for your disease. I don’t suffer from it. However, I think I got a solicatation call. I did not donate but leads me to believe there are many others who are suffering. I hope you can overcome the disease.

  2. Ha, ha, ha! Thanks for a good laugh. It is for this very reason that have mostly avoided pinterest. I already have more ideas/projects than reality has room for. I knew it was trouble. Now here’s my proof! 😉

  3. I actually have a stuffed owl pillow. I have a box full of wine bottles I dream of cutting with yarn and nail polish remover. I cleaned the home office so that I would have room to get to the sewing machine so I can make a tank top out of one of Michael’s tshirts. “Jet packs” made out of 2liter bottles spray painted with pipe cleaners sticking out of them lay on the floor because my kids don’t even like that kind of stuff. 17 coasters that don’t match any room in my house are piled up looking cute on a basement shelf. Yes. I have this sickness.

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