Serious confession time. I think I might claim this as a "rough day/straw that broke the camel's back" exemption!
It's been a challenging week. Today was our quilt guild meeting. Theme: Destashing. (This is serious foreshadowing, friends.)
As I was getting ready to go I got delayed several times for very good reasons but each time put me just a few minutes behind my planned itinerary. I eventually got my coffee, grabbed and put the important bag of stuff for the meeting in the car along with the dog (she gets to go to daycare on quilting days) and realized I had left my purse inside. I ran inside, grabbed my purse and jumped back in the car before the dog even realized I was gone (wishful thinking). Backed out of the driveway and put the car in drive and the travel mug full of delicious brew tumbled off the roof of the car where I had left it and left a caffeinated Rorschach blot on the road at the bottom of the driveway (a moment of silence, please.) Got out of the car, picked up the remains of the travel mug and tried to be philosophical about it, thinking I probably drink too much coffee, anyway. Made it to the road where the daycare is and discovered it was being dug up by some very industrious road workers which meant one-way alternating traffic with no opportunity to detour. Waited. Waited some more, getting a bit worried by the extent of the roadwork and the row of orange pylons suspiciously close to the daycare driveway. Finally got near a flag person and rolled down my window and asked if I would even be able to get into the daycare, only to be told she had no idea where the daycare is. Okay. The next time our direction of traffic was allowed to move, I discovered that they were actually cutting up the pavement right outside the daycare. I put my indicator on anyway and all of the workers stared at me. Then one angelic man in an orange vest pointed into the driveway with an inquiring look on his face. I also pointed and nodded and smiled hopefully. He had a conversation with the other workers and moved some pylons around so I was able to squeeze into the driveway between the worker engaged in cutting up the pavement and the drainage ditch. Dog was delivered, I got friendly waves from the flaggers as I left, and I made it to the meeting. This is where things got really hairy. It's very clear that some people really took the destashing January movement seriously because there were not one, not two, but three tables full of free stuff. I am sorry to say that I walked out with over ten pounds of fabric scraps (nothing bigger than a FQ - most were bags of scraps and strips) that I now have to find space for until I can turn them into projects. Trying to see a silver lining and am wavering between "I have helped other people destash!" and "Now I can do more wonderful things with fabric!" Both true, but both feeling a little... forced. Sigh.
Brushing myself off, picking myself up, and jumping back on the wagon as of today.
TL;DR: I fell off the wagon. Big time.