Or would you rather see my injuries?
No snark today, I promise. I’m too tired. Emotionally and physically, although currently physically is winning.
As though the actual dying wasn’t enough, we also have a house to deal with. Fortunately (I guess), my family and I are polar opposites. My mom and sister can’t deal with the physical changing of the house, but are perfectly content to spend eight hours going through piles of papers. I have very little problem with washing walls that another family painted when my grandparents still lived in another state, but while I was moving stuff so I could clean said walls I ran across a bag from Stemper’s filled with cards that were (of course) itemized on the front of the bag and it said, “2 Granddaughter birthday ” and burst into tears.
It actually works out quite well. Hand me the Killz and let me put my iPod on shuffle and pretend that it’s somebody else’s- anybody else’s- bathroom. Y’all can deal with letters and pictures and clothing and all that stuff.
Well, at least I thought it was a good deal until I spent five (yes, five) hours scraping the ceiling. Do you know how difficult it is to scrape a ceiling when you are the same height as a hobbit? Very. I burned my wrist on the light (huh, I know how the CSI:NY episode worked now), lost feeling in my thumb, somehow took a gouge out of my finger without realizing it, and cannot move my right shoulder. And it still didn’t all come off.
My mom walked in and asked what we the hell we were going to do with it. I’ll tell you what we’re going to do with it. We’re going to paint it and call it faux-finishing. And if anybody begs to differ, they will get to view the scar on my wrist.
Oh, hey! Speaking of shuffle, I heard a lot of great songs that I haven’t heard in a long time today. Like the ending to the Resurrection piece of the Passion of the Christ? Lovely. And Avril Lavigne! I forgot how much I love her! She speaks to my pasty white angriness.
I’m going to go die in a corner now. See you tomorrow.