|Holy frick it's in my eye! How did it even get in my eye?!|
So, now that I don't have a job... Oh, yeah, didn't tell you all about that. I don't have a job anymore. I'm debating if I really even want to get a new one. I've told my husband that it's
mostly improbable but I really don't want to work for other's *cough* likely that I can make up my portion of the bills selling my crafts.
One of my endeavors is making wedding bouquets, with glittery flowers right now because I went crazy at the JoAnne's sale and have sea of glitter soaked "Christmas" crafty bits. Since I seriously have no other place to work, I started in on project #1 on the bed.
|There's a point where this shit just becomes creepy.|
Several shaved bits of foam and trying to figure out how glitter does get into butt cracks so efficiently later, my husband proclaimed that I need a craft room. This would be an awesome win if we actually had a spare room that could be converted thusly.
On a side note, I lost myself for several minutes on the site this picture of Glitter Bear came from. I don't understand it one bit, but I couldn't stop looking.
|I'm just waiting for it to turn around and there's a Facebook bear on the other side begging for someone to undo this ungodly freak of scientific tampering.|
Anyhow, I need to go dive into my minivan full of sparkles with a vacuum and firm resolve to just accept that I'll be pulling glitter out of odd orifices for the next month.