Somewhere in the wreck of a garage my staple gun hides. I don't understand. My hubby comes out here for hours at a time to "clean and organize" his space. See those little sandals? They were too small for our daughter last year. Why are they out of the Goodwill box? They were at one time ready to be taken. See the chess board and the crystal dish? Hand-me down from hubby's boss. We didn't want it, but we are the "just give them our junk" people apparently. How did we become those people? Trust me, if I haven't used it in six months, it's gone. I am not a hoarder. And where the hell did that coffee cup come from? I don't recognize it as one of ours.
Here's more. The stereo? Doesn't work. I want my staple gun. I have plans that need to be fulfilled! I wanted to start my toy box redo project. I have fabric, I have the will, but I don't have my stable gun!
Look! An empty drawer! A perfect place to store my staple gun. Yes, I could go out to the garage and organize it for my hubby. But then he wouldn't be able to find his tools. I would constantly hear, "Honey, where's my...?" Also, there are almost definitely spiders lurking in the depths of all this junk. I don't do spiders. So for the time being or at least until tomorrow night when I send hubby out to find my staple gun, I will be working on my toy box redo Sat. I am staple gunless.