My Mess

Good Man is INTJ. Good Man I am INTP. I like to start projects. Good Man likes to finish project. (This explains the state of our desks. My desk is covered in embroidery floss cards, Korean books, and various notes to myself. Good Man’s desk has stacks of finished papers on it.)

The living room is currently in Amanda State. Who am I kidding? It’s always in Amanda State. I have multiple sewing projects going on in different stages. I finished a purple dress done with microsuede, but it has some deep wrinkles in it that need to be vinegar steamed out. I haven’t done it yet. I’ve got 16 panels cut out for a gored skirt, but I haven’t staystitched the waists yet. I have a pair of silk pants from Thailand I want to copy and resize, waiting to be traced. A bag of scrap fabric is waiting to be turned into…what, I don’t know.

I told Good Man we needed to clean the living room and he said, “We? Tell me what in here is mine.”

I looked around. “Dammit.”

Good Man grinned and patted me on the shoulder. “It is never my mess. It is always your mess.”