Thursday, August 8, 2013


I won't sell it (yet), because it was specifically made to fit my butt.
 Not really, but that's what I keep telling myself.
I love it. It's surprisingly comfortable and feels like a piece of glass.
 Money is money. You make it, you spend it. This is worth more to me then turning it into a few bucks that I would most likely blow on some worthless shit.
 I'll never get rich making furniture because I truly do not care about selling furniture, or maybe I will get rich making furniture because of the fact that I don't care, who knows?
 The universe will have it's way with you either way.
My father in law was talking to me yesterday, mind you, this is a man creeping up on 80 years old. He was telling me about these tables he's been making because the custom cabinet business is really in the shitter, and when business was good, he never had time to do things he wanted to do. He spent his life making things for other people.
 But now he has time. 65 years later....and now he has time. That's some bullshit.
I, on the other hand will mostly make things I want to make. I don't want to be 80 and say I wish I did this 65 years ago.
 Money comes and goes, but years....years always stay behind you.

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