Licenced to Wreck/Create

I mentioned in yesterday's post that I will be purging and rearranging my work area.

My husband is appalled. Not because I am purging, but because I will be moving furniture. He seems to have this idea that I can't redecorate or rearrange furniture without his minute by minute instruction.

As you may recall, I had to wait until he went out of town for a week to get rid of the crappy carpet on the stairs, and fix them up.

I also had to take the bull by the horns to paint my work area (painting over some really ugly paneling ) a nice lavender, and get new flooring. When I told him I would have a friend help me install the flooring after I painted, he freaked. He freaked even more when I presented all the research on how to paint over paneling, and showed him the cans of paint and primer.

He did wind up helping, but he was a pain-in-the-ass. Even my friend said so. But the room turned out great. Just the way I wanted it. Still looks great two years later.

After these two incident, I decided to get the objective opinion from a professional -- handyman. I explained to this guy my husband's reactions, how I am completely capable of handling power tools and cleaning them up, painting, demolition, etc.

The handyman listened carefully to my story, then made this diagnosis: I'm not doing anything wrong. It's my husband. I scare the heck out of him because I am capable. I'm competition. That's why he nags, and criticizes, and is a general pain-in-the-ass. And that I should continue doing what I am, and continue to do as much of it behind his back so I don't have to put up with his crap.

I have a license to do what I want to do, in my space. Even though my husband is flipping over my latest plans, they are my plans. It's my workroom and I'll move what I want to.