My ex-husband used to say that I had such an addictive personality, if he could ever get me to have sex twice, he'd have it made. Now I get it.

At this same time last week, I was furiously sewing potholders in an effort to justify the $52.00 I'd spent at the fabric store for fat quarters and cotton batting. The original plan was to run into the store, pick up a couple pieces fabric for two potholders (as part of Muffin Uptown's pie-making accoutrement I was giving her as a birthday gift).

14 potholders, 12 coasters, and 2 catnip-filled mouse-toys later I am headed (inexplicably) BACK to the fabric store.

Obviously, this is not the kind of thing I should be fooling around with.