AAHHHH! I'm about to splurge. I've kept my yarn diet, but I'm about to use the money I've been squirreling away for years for a for a shed! Not just a shed, but my very own shed that I will not share with anyone. Not my kids, not my boyfriend, not the chickens. ME. MINE. ALL MINE.
You see, I have a tendency to be easy going, and so I tend to let things go, whether it was the only new car I ever bought in my life that ended up going to my daughter and had me on my bike through one winter, or my space which looks akin to a garage filled with things that aren't mine, or borrowing my vehicle (a 30 year old toyota pick-up) because I can easily walk to work.
And I don't really mind, I don't have many needs. So I'm a little surprised at my thinking when it comes to this shed.
I think it has to do with age.
IF I don't get the shed now, before I retire, I'll never get one.
And I want one. Before I die.
I think this is along the continuum of a Middle Age Crisis. I guess I'm a late bloomer.
OR I just have repeating episodes of mild versions. I thought I had one at 50 when I joined the race team and suffered in race training rides twice a week, felt like hurling often, limped in with a flat on the one official race I rode on the windiest day imaginable, and one concussion.
At least being Queen of a 6' x 8' shed is safer.