Schizophrenic Crafter

There is something seriously wrong with me. I have an addiction: crafting. It’s a dangerous thing for me to walk into a craft/art/fabric store. I see all the possibilities. I pick up random things and think,” I could make this into something cool.” I don’t tell myself that just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should do something.

Nope. I randomly buy stuff (so much stuff), that I’ll be able to use “someday” (or so I hope). Every so often the voice of reason asks, “What’s the plan? What will you do with ‘fill in the blank’?” And that may make me pause long enough to put “fill in the blank” down. But far too often (especially if there’s a sale involved) I’ll just plan on figuring that all out later.

My lack of focus allows me to be attracted to all sorts of things: paper, hole punches, fabric, yarn, beads, chains, wood, pens, cutting tools, stamps and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. It’s people like me that keep these stores in business, with my delusions of grandeur. Basically, I’m a schizophrenic crafter.