Confessions of a reluctant domestic

I have a confession to make.

Promise you won't tell?

Swear you won't say anything?

Pinkie swear?

Ok, here it is: I am a reluctant domestic. While I can clean and cook with a decent ability, and I actually enjoy cooking because it involves one of my favorite things--food--I am not good at creating a "home." My mother brought over paint samples the other day, and it put me in a panic. The idea of decorating my office sends me running out of the house to the nearest pool. Throw pillows, curtains and cozy little accents make me want to take out a giant remote and change the channel to something more familiar, like writing. I can talk to you about short stories and books all day long. Pillows are another thing entirely.

Somewhere, I missed out on the domestic DNA. My mother loves to decorate, my sister is in school to be a interior designer. But the idea of creating a colorful holiday table or coordinated living room accessories simply does not connect in my brain. I get fire up over pictures, scrapbooks, photo shoots, dancing......not candles. And I try. The sad part is I really do try, and all that happens is a half-hazard attempt at an cozy and sophisticated home. Honestly, I have an idea of what I want my house to look like--I simply don't want to put the effort into making it that way. I wish I could simply wave a wand and have it appear. I get no joy out of the creative process of creating of home.

Frankly, just discussing it is making me uncomfortable. I'm going to go swim now, and avoid the magazines taunting me in my magazine holder. While my home still may scream "new adults!", at least I'll have a nice tan.

Maybe I can hire my mother and mother-in-law to do my home...............................