We all know that one person who loves to craft, and occasionally we even live with them. They’re constantly on Pinterest, or wandering around Hobby Lobby. Their room is filled with scissors, scrapbook paper, glitter and decorative tapes. Every time they leave the house, it seems like they come back with new paints or fabric. Even though they have the best intentions when they start all of these projects, they never finish them. Never.
It all starts out very slowly. You come home one day, and your roommate has left some paint brushes and a canvas on the kitchen table. It’s no big deal though because you just assume that they’re a decent human being and will clean it up later. But then two weeks later, the brushes and canvas are still there, and they’ve had the audacity to add a pile of tangled yarn to the mess. (Scarf project gone wrong?) Eventually, your kitchen counters are covered in craft supplies. You can’t even make a sandwich without finding glitter in between the bread because for some reason your roommate’s latest project has ended up in the refrigerator.
This has gone on long enough. You can’t even get to your living room because the hallway is crowded with used palettes and driftwood that at one time held the promise of becoming a chic coffee table. Confronting the crafter should be easy, as they are oblivious to the clutter they’ve created and would never hurt a fly. However, making it to their room will be a challenge, since your door is being held shut by glue stick residue, and the floor is covered in beads that will never be made into bracelets.
You’re finally able to pry the door open by chipping away at the dried adhesive with a pair of knitting needles you found. As you slowly open the door, you hear a tutorial video for hand lettering playing from the living room. Now is your chance. You navigate the hallway, squeezing past the ghosts of projects past, to find your roommate sitting on the couch with paper and pen, attempting to perfect their calligraphy. As you start to make your argument, something catches your eye: an embroidery hoop.
You can’t help but think that a handmade gift would be perfect for your mom’s birthday. The anger starts to fade, and you become consumed by the crafts. You and your roommate spend your days making soap and hunting for new projects, only to leave them to die in the corners of what was once your apartment.
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