I always felt that I was lucky not to really have any addictions.
I guess I've always had addictions, but never really thought about it until recently. (Denial is such a wonderful coping mechanism.)
From what I've heard (on tv and movies which is oh-so reliable), the first step in a recovery program is admitting that you have a problem. Okay. I have a problem. Last week, when I was alone in my studio, I was hit with the realization that I am addicted to craft supplies. I am sure that it certainly must be covered in the DSM-IV.
It doesn’t matter what kind of supplies... I love them all. Buttons, fabric, ribbons, papers, felt, brads, punches, paints, blank books, cardstock, adhesive, etc. It has gotten so bad that not only am I addicted to tangible supplies that I can pet and stroke as they sit in my studio, but I'm also addicted to digital supplies. How can that be? Even my magazine problem is tied to crafts and supplies and therefore a sub-addiction. I find magazines and books and then think about my supplies and what I can do with them... but it just gets put into the studio and I run out of time. Now, I'm realizing that I'm an addict.
When Tim built the studio, there was a concrete bench-type thing that he couldn't get rid of, so we transformed it into a cushioned resting area. I could take naps there. I sewed a pretty cover for the foam mattress and got a bunch of cool pillows to put out there (complete with a nap blanket). I tried it out once and absolutely loved it. A nap in my studio... what could be better? Now my addiction has even overtaken the need for sleep. My nap space is completely filled with tubs of craft supplies. I need an addition on my studio just for storage. And, my friends, I can tell you now... that is never going to happen. Tim may be sweet and wonderful, but he's not going to construct an additional room. My addiction has gotten so bad that I was actually thinking about when all of the kids would be old enough to be out of the house completely so I can take over one of their bedrooms without looking like an evil person. Bwah-ha-ha.
Yesterday, the bug bit me again.
I was reading someone's blog, which led to reading someone else's blog, which led to another... and so on. I ended up spending $36 on designer fabric (which is funny because I'm so not a designer person) and a pattern for a purse. But the fabric is soooooo yummy. Oy! Take a peek.
I guess I've always had addictions, but never really thought about it until recently. (Denial is such a wonderful coping mechanism.)
From what I've heard (on tv and movies which is oh-so reliable), the first step in a recovery program is admitting that you have a problem. Okay. I have a problem. Last week, when I was alone in my studio, I was hit with the realization that I am addicted to craft supplies. I am sure that it certainly must be covered in the DSM-IV.
It doesn’t matter what kind of supplies... I love them all. Buttons, fabric, ribbons, papers, felt, brads, punches, paints, blank books, cardstock, adhesive, etc. It has gotten so bad that not only am I addicted to tangible supplies that I can pet and stroke as they sit in my studio, but I'm also addicted to digital supplies. How can that be? Even my magazine problem is tied to crafts and supplies and therefore a sub-addiction. I find magazines and books and then think about my supplies and what I can do with them... but it just gets put into the studio and I run out of time. Now, I'm realizing that I'm an addict.
When Tim built the studio, there was a concrete bench-type thing that he couldn't get rid of, so we transformed it into a cushioned resting area. I could take naps there. I sewed a pretty cover for the foam mattress and got a bunch of cool pillows to put out there (complete with a nap blanket). I tried it out once and absolutely loved it. A nap in my studio... what could be better? Now my addiction has even overtaken the need for sleep. My nap space is completely filled with tubs of craft supplies. I need an addition on my studio just for storage. And, my friends, I can tell you now... that is never going to happen. Tim may be sweet and wonderful, but he's not going to construct an additional room. My addiction has gotten so bad that I was actually thinking about when all of the kids would be old enough to be out of the house completely so I can take over one of their bedrooms without looking like an evil person. Bwah-ha-ha.
Yesterday, the bug bit me again.
I was reading someone's blog, which led to reading someone else's blog, which led to another... and so on. I ended up spending $36 on designer fabric (which is funny because I'm so not a designer person) and a pattern for a purse. But the fabric is soooooo yummy. Oy! Take a peek.
So I guess I'm not going to squash my addiction anytime soon (until I pay for my airfare to England for school and have no money left). For now, I will have to be happy with taking that first step and admitting to the problem. Maybe I'll find a support group or something.
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