There was collateral damage
Yesterday I painted my room, or what will be my room. It was my dad’s before he moved out, and before that a storage room. I vacuumed and shampooed the carpet, though it’s hard to tell.
I went to Wal-Mart and bought everything you see here, except for the chairs and Sonic cup. I got a late start and didn’t begin until noon. I know this because I was getting the chairs from the kitchen when the tornado siren went off. I eventually finished at 8pm, exhausted, watching the Olympics and slowly regaining my will to live.
It was not a professional job, it was a definite amateur effort, one that would have made Martha Stewart weep or filled her with rage. I started out carefully, spreading the tarp and gently pouring the paint into the tray, being deliberate and applying the paint with a critcal eye.
And that was the first wall. After that I started slapping on paint. The little crevices are a pain in the butt to cover. I stood there, rolling paint over the same darn spot 2-3 times wanting to smack the person who decided this was a great idea. My aunt bought this house in the 90’s and it came like this. There was some demented fad for textured walls that rightly died out, but unfortunately for me not soon enough.
I’m not sure when I began to despair. My phone kept fading in and out, the radio station I listened to seemed to repeatedly play songs I don’t like just to irritate me. That didn’t help. Paint fumes were not a problem since one of the windows has a detachable pane. The wasp hanging out on the curtains was interested in what I was doing and I was glad when he got bored and left. What probably did it was seeing how much effort this was taking and how little I had accomplished.
The instructions on the can said to wait 4 hrs before recoating. Pfft that. I took breaks and gave those suckers about an hour to dry before going back.
The pets stayed out, taking naps and watching the Olympics. There were other animals with me besides the wasp. I painted over a dead spider I didn’t care enough to clear away. I may have painted over more than one, if I am honest.
By the time I got to the closet doors I just wanted my life back. I had been there for six hours and those louvered doors were messing with me. Instead of carefully painting each slat I did 2 at a time, the paint smeared and there are little lumps from the settling paint but I did not care. I just wanted out of there. I got sloppy, sloppier, at the doorway. I painted stuff in the hallway just because it got in my way.
When I was finished I replaced the light switch plate. In this way I marked this room as mine. Truly no one else can lay claim to it now. I really wanted bears, to be official but this is what I got. It is appropriate, after all it is the Year of the Monkey .