Painting

I have a bathroom that's keeping me up at night because it's still waiting to be painted. Since we moved in waiting to be painted. Since we moved in three plus years ago waiting to be painted.

You catch my drift?

It had this hideous vinyl wallpaper that I scraped off nearly four years ago. Underneath was/is a dark lavender splotched up with plaster where bits of the wall came away with the wallpaper. It's lovely if you like that kind of deconstructionist abstract vibe.

I don't.

And I'm tired of being embarrased by it. And kept awake by it. And losing sleep because of it.

The things that we give power to in our lives, eh?

So last night, while laying there, with my eyes closed, listening to the fabric of time and space being opened and closed, I decided to get the job done. I also figured that if I made the decision, I'd finally fall asleep.

Eventually, I did.

And waking up this morning was painful.

However, I went to the paint store, picked out some (more) color chips, and walked away with a gallon of primer. I (wisely, according to me) decided to not commit to a color until the room is primed and therefore a blank canvas for the plethora of blue paint chips.

Perhaps tomorrow I will start with the priming. I have all of the brushes and rollers and stuff. With my Mom's help I painted nearly the entire house before we moved in. That includes a coat of primer and two coats of paint on every ceiling surface in the house. Except, of course, the upstairs hallway. The part over the stairs. The steep, steep stairs.

We'll see if I get started tomorrow. Or if the can-o-primer spends the next three months on the floor in the kitchen.
I'll keep you posted.