The work week arrived much too quickly, and the huge pile of work is distracting me from some very important projects:

1. Polishing the synopsis of Suds
2. Making the final revisions on Suds
3. Waiting for Howie Mandel to call me
4. Trying to find a market for a really cool magazine article I have in mind (two very encouraging letters from editors already, but alas, no sale)
5. Finding winter boots that are waterproof, warm and actually look nice
6. The second book, which I had to forcibly cram back into the shiny new idea box until novel #1 has been shipped off to RWA's Golden Heart awards

and lastly

7. Finding the dining room

I don't know how it happens, but every time the DH and I turn our backs, somebody shoves a bunch of stuff into the dining room. The funny thing is that it's our stuff, but neither one of us remembers how it gets into that particular room.

This it the room that Christmas dinner will be appearing in. :::dances with glee that she didn't/doesn't have to deal with Canadian/American Thanksgiving::: Somehow all of this stuff has to find a new home by December 24.

And it can't be the basement because we finally cleaned that up this summer. Hey, could these two areas of the house be connected somehow?

After a careful inspection of a few items shoved behind the buffet, most are in that "we might need it someday" category. Like the bolts of leftover upholstery fabric when we had the offensive orange floral couch join the world of tasteful home furnishings. Or the popular unidentified crystal item we received from a British relative - it's either to hold icing sugar or plutonium, we're still not sure.

Each item has a reason for being somewhere in the house. But it's when they all get together in one area and have a big clutter party that I start wigging out and getting all minimalistic: throwing out all of the DH's cherished belongings when he's not looking. And a couple cow items too.

So instead of clearing out the clutter, I'm online again. And that's just ducky.