I don’t normally plug my own previous posts, but if you haven’t read “Toilet Parts and a One-Armed Angel” this post won’t make sense. I swear. I cross-my-heart-hope-to-die-pinky-promise swear that this next entry is 100% true. So my week had been stressful yet again. I was behind on my work. I had snapped at my sweet husband, more than once. I had a important meeting for work on Wednesday, so Tuesday night I stayed up late in the garage building new and exciting projects from cedar balls and planking (one of our clients is CedarSafe Closets). After my drill died,…
