Are you missing anything that might be located up high? Or is there perhaps going to be a meteor shower tonight? No? Pity. I just finished painting my ceilings and may never be able to look down (or even just forward) again.
I’m getting old.
Also, I would like to decide that I’m one of those people who is far too regal and privileged to do menial tasks like painting ceilings. Then I could just avoid the whole thing with a sense of righteousness. As it is, I spent the entire time wondering why I hadn’t batted my eyelashes a little harder at Otto and gotten it done when he was last here.
Knowing that I needed to paint the ceilings today, I did the most logical thing and did a million other things first because I didn’t wanna.
I was up early for the last phase of ceiling repair on my beleaguered ceiling. That last leak has been being repaired by my contractor for nearly two months. Oh, I called him up and he was happy to come fix it for free, no problem. But first he wanted me to wait a week to make sure it wasn’t a continuing leak. So I did. Then he came and cut out the soggy parts and put in a patch. Then a week or two later he came and did a layer of mud. Then he fell off the planet for a while, then he came back and did a second layer of mud. Then this week I called him and said “Dude, I have a bucket of mud here in my dining room, did you forget about me?” and he assured me that no, he hadn’t forgotten, he’d just been busy. So this morning, he came to put the texture on.
I made his job easier and more pleasant by standing there in the dining room while he worked, talking about how much I hate popcorn ceilings and I have no idea how anyone ever thought that was a good idea. I could tell he really appreciated it.
After that, I had some errands to run, and then I found myself at Burlington Coat Factory shopping for a suit for Monkey. I have never seen such an array of suits for small boys. It made my head spin. I quickly discovered that there are three options for the well-dressed little boy, when it comes to suits. He can look 1) completely boring, 2) like a tiny banker, or 3) like a pimp. (Although I must say, I was tempted by that navy suit with the pink stripes. That one would actually coordinate beautifully with my wedding dress.)
I called a friend on the phone and asked her what I should buy. She, surprisingly, had no opinion despite my waving two suits in front of my cell phone. And furthermore, EVEN MORE SHOCKING, she refused to drop everything and come meet me at the store. That bitch. She did suggest, though, that I just buy both and bring them home to decide. So I did that.
I brought home two adorable little suits and I have been staring at them ever since. One is a grey windowpane plaid, and one is a camel pinstripe. And it is suddenly TOO HARD to make a decision because it feels very IMPORTANT and while I like the grey better, the camel seems more spring/summery. Also I suspect that if I tell Monkey his suit is really a camel!—how FUN!—he will be slightly more likely to actually wear it.
Oh! Also today, I received a package from the very generous LadyBug, who read my tale of woe about trying to buy Chickadee a wedding dress on eBay and sent me some email saying, “What size does she wear? We have an outgrown flower girl dress here.” And then she mailed me the most gorgeous dress I have ever seen, because she is just a really, really nice lady, albeit in a box wrapped in about a mile of packing tape. I unwrapped it for about an hour because I was not bright enough to just get a damn pair of scissors already, but OH MY was it worth the wait. Chickadee is going to be THRILLED.
After most of my brain leaked out my ears while trying to decide between the suits, I packed up an entire winter’s worth of recycling and went to the dump, along with everyone else in my town. It was 50 degrees here today, downright balmy. When it’s only 10 degrees out, I don’t much care about saving the earth. At 50 degrees I can afford to be generous with separating my plastics from my glass.
When I came home, I started cleaning up some of the clutter that spontaneously generates around here, and then I got ready to paint.
And then I painted. For hours. And now I cannot pick my arms up or lower my head anymore. And I still don’t know which suit. Please send advil.