Thursday, March 5, 2009

Brush it away

Sometimes I find myself thinking in "facebook" when I'm not on the computer. Ordinary moments throughout the day have me contemplating "what are you doing right now?" in the third person. Silver wishing you would use your blinker, ...could do without hearing you say one more word about Alan Keyes weird, random things like that. I was in the grocery store behind a woman pushing her cart as if she were walking under water and thought, "This is the perfect moment for that 'I secretly want to punch slow-walking people in the back of the head' group. I should join that when I get home."

See, I don't have a tricked out phone linked to Facebook Mobile. If I ever got one I might cease to exist as a three dimensional entity and become trapped in a virtual universe like Tron. Thank goodness for my thrifty sensibilities. I got the ghetto phone on sale at Radio Shack for $9.99; sometimes my foresight is astoundingly keen.

In real life, I'm in the process of painting my kitchen. This happened after a weird emotional thud the other day. I was doing my best impression of those dismal "before" people in the Cymbalta commercials for most of the day; no matter what I did, I couldn't seem to stay completely vertical or out from under a blanket for any length of time. Some days just flat out suck for no apparent reason; you aren't supposed to be UP and ON all the damn time for cryin' out loud. Some days you just need to retreat for a while. After helping kids with homework I actually crawled back into bed in a fit of self-pity. Not long after that, my inner drill sergeant kicked in.

The question I asked of my self was, "What can you do about it right now?" I could have folded laundry, but I didn't want to. That wasn't anywhere near good enough for my inner drill sergeant; I had to do something. This unforgiving pep talk happened and suddenly I was out of bed turning on music, doing sit-ups, washing dishes and breaking out the primer. The kids were out to play for a while and thank god for leftovers, they had dinner when they got home but honestly I don't quite know how.

I painted for almost four straight hours and got all the trim primed that I could without moving furniture. When I accidentally hit that heavy-lifting stopping place it was 8:30 and time to put the boys to bed. However, if another adult had been around at any point during this episode they probably would have said, "Silver, I think you can stop now...that's enough. Silver...seriously, just put the paint brush down and back away."

Had that happened I would have probably had a freak-out moment similar to Richard Dreyfus in Close Encounters when he was sculpting that mountain out of everything. Or maybe more like Elizabeth Berkley in the very special Saved By the Bell caffeine pill episode. "Just one more section," I thought. "I'll stop after this next stretch of trim."

Once I finally set the brush down, the spell was broken. I put the kids to bed, poured myself a bottle of wine and let the day's troubles be sufficient for the day.

Today I went to Lowe's and picked up a gallon of High Gloss White to finalize the trim and swiped some swatches for the wall color. I'd been thinking of re-doing the yellow it was before, but during my drill sergeant pep talk I had a vision of a room I may or may not have seen in person during one of my visits to Charleston. It's a classic, Southern-looking color, both bold and cozy and it just might work for my purposes. Smoked Salmon.

This is going to take a while; I have drywall repair to learn along the way.

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