I'm an advocate of self diagnosis

The question I get asked most often.
"So what are you doing now a days?"
Currently I'm enrolled in school. But I don't particular count that. This is what I'm truly doing.

I spend most my time with children under the age of 4, I like them more than anyone I am expected to associate with. Kid's under 4 aren't as pretentious or jaded as adults, its refreshing. Plus they will play games with me where the objective isn't trying to belittle one another to prove dominance. We are into building forts and hanging out in parks. If I'm not with the toddler crowd I'm more than likely with a married couple. One or the other, maybe both simultaneously.
I'm organizing a baby shower for twins at the moment and sewing tiny infant clothing in my spare time. I spent 4 hours looking at furniture and got 3 estimates for a set of custom couches that I may possibly purchase just because I feel like it. They are devine. I could get a 6 foot couch, with love seat and accompanying sitting chair all in a Whitney Steel fabric. I would prefer them with casters on the feet, but hey, I know I can't have everything. I also found this couch that cost more than the entire 3 piece set, that I MUST MUST HAVE. I have agreed to give up my bed and couch I currently have in my room for it. It's possibly the most comfortable cozy couch i have ever had the pleasure of sitting/ passing out in. I fell asleep on the showroom floor. It's a nod to the 70's, which it's true I'm not a huge fan of. Polyester makes me sweat that a hog in heat. but this "shelter sofa" is something I could get behind.

It's no secret I have skipped an all important step in my life. How can you go from high school to celebrating embryos forming in one fail swoop? Well actually, I know how, but it isn't my zygote, so this still applies. Most in my age bracket don't spend their Friday's honestly shopping for furniture for a fictitious house. The term is "dissociation," and I apparently am suffering from a sever case. I need my own home. I have art work to put up but not an once of wall space left. I need a work room. I'm once again, getting restless. Not to runaway like last time, but to forward my adulthood. More like put it on warp drive.

I'll do this for my kid one day, let him stay up all night so he'll pass out hard on the couch and he'll wake up to this wonderland. He'll never forget it. I wouldn't do it on his birthday though, to predictable.