When Jay and I purchased our new cabin, we realized it was lacking one very important feature.  In order to convert it from a rental cabin to our home, we would have to add a closet.  Not just any closet.  A Mack-daddy, there-is-no-where-else-to-store-crap mega closet. 

My carpentry skilled, OCD repressed husband went to work.  One evening while I played on twitter cleaned the house; Jay spent hours sketching out the perfect closet.  He counted my shoes.  He inventoried my clothing.  He measured the length of my dresses.  He made detailed notes which he added to his blueprint.

Then he handed the information to our contractor and they went to work.  Surprising no one who’s ever worked on a building/remodel project, they weren’t quite as meticulous as my darling love.  They eyeballed instead of measured.  They assumed it would be good enough.

They assumed wrong.

This weekend we moved in.  This weekend, Jay’s OCD came out of hiding as he proudly unpacked my shoes and arranged them on the shelving he envisioned would make me the happiest wife in the worldUSstatecountysubdivision.


I posted the above picture on Facebook.  What some of my friends saw was an awesome way to store my shoes.  What others saw was the excessive amount of shoes I own.  What no one saw (or at least commented on) was the major flaw with the shelving.

Notice the row of heels turned on their sides? (Just above the boots) The measurements were off by a fraction, making the shelves too short for my tallest of heels.

A similar mistake on the dress section of the closet meant I had to call my mother.  I have an enviable closet, yet I have to store my formal dresses at my mommy and daddy’s house.

Sometimes awesome just isn’t good enough.

Sometimes tiny details matter.

Sometimes a closet turns out to be a life lesson.  It’s difficult to see flaws through the filter of Facebook.  Nothing is truly perfect.  Everyone has their issues. 

But despite it all, I’m blessed.  Because while awesome isn’t good enough, it’s still pretty damn cool.