In which our lady discovers she is a featherhead

So, I think I've come to the point of...something.

Background: Yesterday Morgan calls me to tell me he has a big surprise for me. Mostly he just enjoys taunting me, but he also can't keep a secret a secret (but neither can I so it's okay). He comes home and tells me I just won the lottery because I get a tidy little sum of fun money. "Yay," says I. I continue in my excitement with, "That's awesome because I wanted to buy some fabric to make myself some new summer dresses!"

.......

Let's think on this, shall we. It took me a full three hours to realize that I could actually just go buys some new summer dresses instead of buy fabric to make them. That sound you hear is me smacking myself on the forehead. I really am a featherhead. I have come to the realization that there is something very different about me. I know, you're all wondering what took me 25 years to figure this out. But really, maybe it's just this strange obsession I have with making myself (and those I love) things. Morgan thinks it's a hobby, but it might actually be a mental illness of some sort. Because, in all likelihood I am just going to go buy fabric and make dresses (I already have the pattern!!!) instead of buy the actual dresses. You can all say it now: "Featherhead!"