Further proving my husband’s theory that I’m a senior citizen masquerading as a young wife, I really love jig saw puzzles. Nothing like putting on PJs on at 7 p.m., having a glass of wine, and settling in with good Internet radio and a jigsaw puzzle. Yeeeeeeee haaaaaaw! Look out!
There’s one on our floor right now that I got from a thrift store for $1.50, and unfortunately, has some pieces missing. (I wonder if they’re crucial?) I’ve been working on it for like a year. (I’m not totally retarded–just like five percent, and I promised myself that I would file taxes after I completed it, which may partially be why I haven’t finished the puzzle yet.) It’s like 4 feet by 3 feet, and I have it right in front of the TV in our living room. Well, what would be considered the “living room,” because the word “room” kind of implies areas of an apartment that are separated by walls, and we’re in a studio. We don’t have tons of space. Anyway, two days ago, we both woke up cranky b/c we both had trouble falling asleep for different anxiety-provoking work situations and he stubbed his toe on the puzzle several times, before finally yelling when I was going to move the puzzle. And because he sounded mad at me, I got mad at him for being mad at me. (Yeah! I’m healthy! Rock on!)
But when we both settled down, I saw his point. Big, unfinished, dusty jig saw puzzle taking a quarter of the living room floor for close to a year? I suppose I could concede that point. I’m just worried if I put it away I won’t ever finish it. I don’t need a gigantic home, but maybe one large enough where I can have an official Jigsaw Puzzle Table and I won’t ever have to put it away. That is my new dream. That, and like really awesome abs. *Sigh*