Addictions

I am going to admit something today. I have an addiction. I don't even know what it is called, but I will explain it and then maybe one of you cyber-readers may have the answer.

I love to peel wall paper.

And use the leaf blower.

And peel paint.

There, I've let the cat out of the bag. There's something so fun about seeing strips of something being lifted from a surface. It becomes a bit of a game. "Let's see how much will come off this time! " Before you know it, the whole room is bare. Or the lawn is cleaned up. Then comes the next part. Hmmm...guess I am going to have to paint in here. Hmm...guess I'll have to pile the leaves into the wheelbarrow.

I suppose, among addictions, it isn't the worst thing. Although as long as we are talking addictions, I will admit one more which isn't as compulsive. When I am in a store, I often tidy up piles of clothes which have been thrown every where. Or if I am walking by a display, and there is a box that is out of kilter, I have been known to straighten it up so the display looks nice.

I did that the other day and commented out loud to my son "Monk-ism". Monk is a private detective who is obsessive compulsive. He doesn't like a messy crime scene. I can relate to him in some not-so-minor ways. Of course this addiction has its advantages. Sock drawers get rearranged, tupperware gets stacked, rooms get prepped for renos. And after all, it doesn't cost any money.

It can't be all that bad...and I can stop any time I want to!