I am not saying a thing about the fact that there is not enough room for that many seats, and that he promised not to make it ugly in that room. I'm not saying anything. I am going to trust him. And would you like to know why I'm not saying anything and why I am going to trust him?
Because, as I mentioned before, he said he would run no interference whatsoever with the rest of the house if I let him do that room to his liking. Okay. Okay. I am breathing deeply, and I am finding a place of being centered and at peace and I am not saying anything. But the subject I am avoiding is no longer the seating overload. Oh, no. The subject I am now avoiding by not saying anything about it is the paint color I have chosen for the bedroom.
Isn't it funny how I can take myself from raving to smirking in just a matter of seconds?
(In case you're wondering, yes, I am still sick. Doesn't show at all, does it?)
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