Parking spot

In a surprising turn of events, I actually stuck to my plan for my Wednesday off: clean the garage. I don't have a before picture. Why? It looked like I was in training for a Hoarders episode of my very own. And an episode to be taped soon.

I grew up with a carport. I rented a house with a carport. I purchased with a garage. And then I did it again. I have been one of the lucky garaged for 10 years. I had almost junked myself out of the elite "parking in the garage" group. That would never do.

The plastic tubs in the corner are the wave of the future. The cardboard boxes in the front are work still to be done. And "What about the other side?" you ask. What other side? No, don't look over there. That side has all the yard work stuff that won't stack nicely. Unfortunately, I had to stop before the job was complete because a) I have the stamina of a newborn and b) my garbage can is full. I need to paint that wood (that I was supposed to about four years ago when my brother built me that nice little closet) but the thought fills me with the answer "not today either." Since I hurt head to toe and to the tips of my fingers today, I'm thinking about sleeping on the couch. A lot. After I deposit my full Terrain-load at the Goodwill and swing through Sonic for a rewarding and long awaited Route 44 something...I feel a little wild this morning. It might be Cherry Limeade.