friends

So I have discovered that I am in fact, a hoarder of friends.

Not any friends, mind you, but 1st born friends. Who are amazing women. All who love me dearly And (here is the catch) are all incredibly clean and organized house keepers.

Perhaps, on top of my hoarding issues I also have a deep need to remind my self of how truly awful I am. So I surround myself with women who are impossible to measure up to. Me, being the messiest, hoardingist, of them all. Me and my dear junk. So I invite my amazing friends who know better than to keep 20+ cook books on a single shelf over to my kitchen to bake with me. And over they come. With their one, sweet little binder of a cookbook and they look at my mess of piles of cook books, my binder of recipes falling out, and the flour and sugar floating in clouds above my head and they smile and I know they think in that moment "ah. there is no hope for her."