What I've been up to

I write this post carefully with fingers that ache to the core.  Sitting on my rear end, I feel the tugs and pulls of muscles that hurt in all directions.  I hold my head up with a stiff neck that feels permanently kinked.

I also write it with paint covering every last inch of my skin.

I have spent the last two days holed up in what feels like a dungeon.  Painting, priming, and then priming some more.

I am anticipating finishing today's tasks in a mere eight hours, as opposed to the 12-13 hours I have been putting in every day this week.

I'm slightly giddy with excitement at the possibility of finishing soon.

And by soon, I do mean in three more back-breaking, brutal days.

I have cursed mentally (and out loudedly) at the foolish notion that I could do this.  That I, a single, solitary person, could paint and prime an entire brand-new 1,500 square-foot basement all by myself.

Yesterday morning, in a puddle of tears, I called in the cavalry and begged the help of my friends' teenage daughters with the promise of cash.

They came and I cried a puddle of grateful tears.

My friend Mindy joined me for several hours, as well.  For which I can never repay her enough.

What I have learned is this:

• Don't be afraid to ask for help.  Most especially when you offer to pay said help.  The masses will come and your load will feel more manageable.
• Painting all day definitely makes it easy to stay out of the kitchen, resulting in a 3 pound weight loss over a two-day period.  Painful, but I'll take it.
• The Husband's sincere and heartfelt awe over your mad hard working skills will make it slightly less easy to hate him while he's traveling and dining at fine restaurants.
• Clarifying shampoo does not still remove all the paint from your hair.
• Primer is of the devil.

If I don't make it out alive, make sure my funeral is held in that blasted basement and that a good portion of the service is devoted to staring with gratitude and reverence at the ceiling.  I painted that bad boy all by myself.