My husband will tell you—Wait. And my kids.
Yes, my husband and my kids (because they all like to give me shit) will tell you that I might have a small obsession with rearranging things. And by things, I'm talking about furniture. And sometimes it's not just the furniture I rearrange, but the room. The whole room. And the furniture.
Fine. I have a problem with rearranging things. Even I can see it. But that's not the point of this post, I promise.
What I'm trying to say is that I put things off, and I was thinking about that recently. About why I do it. Which got me to thinking about what my excuses usually are: namely, rearranging furniture/rooms. I honestly didn't think I did it often, but I think it's become a ... dare I say ... it's become a thing.
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