It dawned on me last night that about six weeks ago, I started painting the inside of the playhouse in our backyard, to make it a usable potting shed/useful space instead of just a place to toss tomato cages and empty pots.
We had company in the interim, so I hid my painting tools and all of the stuff emptied out of the playhouse away, so we wouldn't look like squatters.
Since anything out of my sight is out of my mind, it completely slipped my mind that it needs finishing. Every day I find something else about myself to annoy me.
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