Nesting

I have been in nesting mode for several weeks.

What this means is- I look into every room of my house and find everything that is wrong with it.

I have been anxious to get all the dust bunnies from the corners of the rooms and under the beds...

I am addicted to Lysol disenfectant wipes and have a conatiner in each and every room, lest a germ should cross my path at any given moment.

I have found myself in fits of wonder late at night and asking my husband if we need to somehow deep clean our air vents (because a new air filter just doesn't seem sufficient enough).

I have trimmed the tree and can hear the other trees calling to me that they, too, need a new 'do.

I have spent hundreds at COSTCO because I have a nagging fear I will somehow run out of paper towels, toilet paper, boxes of Kleenex and toothbrushes among a myriad of other products (my garage is now called 'Camco').

I silently get mad at my husband for every coffee ring he leaves on the table, every unhung shirt he decided he didn't want to wear and every step he takes in the house with his shoes on.

I silently scorn.... if he could feel the hole burning into the back of his head he might love me just a little less.

This is my nesting- it is a little scary.