I’m one of those people who tends to make big projects for herself. I like having something to work on, I loooove finishing things, and I like challenging myself. For instance, I recently decided that over the fall I’m going to become outlandishly good at making French pastries. (You’re welcome, future house guests!)

And I tend to be really good about follow through. I take my little projects to heart from start to finish. There’s only one project that I’ve taken on that I’ve really let get out of hand.

Scrapbooking.

I think it started out simply enough, I just fell in with the wrong crowd. “It’s just a Stampin’ Up! party, you’ll love it!” they told me, and before you knew it I had gone from casually buying paper to hunting down the right kind of heat embosser. I think we all know someone, maybe even someone in our own family, who has been caught up un this kind of thing, and all I can say is that it’s a slippery slope.

While that in and of its self might not be a problem, one of the side effects has been: I’m convinced that if I just keep saving pictures and ticket stubs, eventually I will be able to scrapbook all of my photos. Not all of them from last year, or all of my wedding photos. All of the photos I’ve taken since my sister graduated from Tiny Tots when I was six. So I just keep taking pictures, ordering the photos, and setting them aside.

Intellectually I know this doesn’t make sense and will never happen. I know that unless I take drastic action, the rubbermaid full of photos and grade eight dance tickets will be handed down in my family as evidence that the harrowing tale of Auntie Kyla’s adult onset obsessive compulsive disorder was actually true.

“LOOK!” My great-grandchildren will say, “This is invitation to her university convocation, with the measuring tape from her cap still attached to the extra RSVP card!”.

“What was she going to do with that?!” The youngest will ask, before bursting into frightened tears.

I just can’t let that happen. My phantom great-grandchildren need a better role model.

This weekend I was feeling extra ambitious, after work on Friday I made refrigerator pickles, and I worked on blog designs projects over the weekend – it was fun & very normal, not a scrapbooking thought in sight. And then mid-Sunday, completely out of the blue, it hit me: I need to let this ridiculous idea die, and just buy some photo albums. When I give myself permission to do that I’ll be able to rest in the knowledge that their archival paper will preserve both my photos, and my sanity.

I was out the door shortly after, bought the albums, and cruised through four years worth of photos (& junk!) yesterday. I don’t know how I’ve let this go on so long when with one more sitting this whole project will be finished. It’s a very silly thing, but you know what? I’m so relieved it’s finally off my plate.

Do you have an impossible project lurking in your home?