Nothing says "I love you" like painting your apartment. Actually, a lot of things say it better than that, but I'm still excited about what it will look like when it's finished. I have chosen a rich grey that kind of looks like a malted milkshake when in the can and goes on the wall deliciously like wet cement. I want to drink or lick it (but I won't).
I intend to do a full photo spread that chronicles "before" and "after," but today is not that day. B. was much more integral to the painting process, but I still feel tired (and maybe a little bit guilty about it). I have a right to be tired, since I have been running around town acquiring my own half of the supplies and gutting my apartment as best I could while still putting in relatively full work days. It was mentioned by a paint-covered birdie that the stuff encountered behind my entertainment center (dust and cobwebs and general filth; in my defense, it is a behemoth and has not been moved in six years) as well as what was on top of my dart board when it came off the wall was like what you might only see as part of special effects of a horror movie. Now we've seen it in real life, so I know perhaps some things are inspired by reality after all.
In other news, things are as ever up in the air, but I think I'm still happy. I am taking the days as they hit and trying to suck them dry. Laughing has been prevalent.
I have a lot of wishes for this week, and I am doing my best to make what I can come true. The rest is out of my hands.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment