Drunken painting rambling.

2005-06-20 at 10:09 p.m.

Let's see, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday (kickball game), Friday (cable, phone), SATURDAY IS MOVING DAY

Things to get done before then: finish painting bedrooms. Pack up basement. Get rug cleaned. Find my Washington Teaching License application with transcripts (eh, that can wait til after the move, can't it?). Oh, yeah, I'm going to classes too, aren't I?

Huh. Where does the time go?

Painting rooms takes remarkably longer than I anticipate. Expecially when the ceilings are covered with ass-tastic ceiling tiles. The bright side of the ceilings being covered with ass-tastic ceiling tiles (seriously, these tiles? look like someone rubbed baby-poo diapers all over them. We took off the lighting fixtures and the white spot on the previously-covered ceiling tiles shows they looked like ass even prior to the baby-poo-diaper-rubbing era. I tried to find a picture to show the extent of the assiness, but every flash picture washes out the baby-poo-diaperyness of it.) is how fantastic the change is when you cover the ass-tastic ceiling tiles with a squijillion layers of white paint after a couple layers of Kilz primer.

Oh, and trim? Not the good kind of trim (as in the "I got some trim" kind of trim), but the ohMYGOD-it-takes-eight-hours-to-paint-this kind of trim. I've always taped off trim before, but this trim is stanky and needs to be painted. And I thought, how hard can this be?

Answer?

Hard. Real fucking Jesus-am-I-still-doing-this hard.

It kind of reminds me when I got my tattoo. Halfway through my tattoo I had that realization that the rest of the tattoo was going to suck because I WAS IN PAIN AND COULDN'T LEAVE WITH A HALF-FINISHED TATTOO.

I can't move in with a half-painted room. I mean I could--just like I would have walked out with a half-finished tattoo. I just refuse to.

THE ASSTASTICNESS WILL NOT DEFEAT ME.

By the way--Mom? I have a tattoo.

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