I’m getting close to painting the dining room. I’ve narrowed my colors down to these few:
I had four months and this crazy idea that I might actually be able to install my floor before my couch arrived. I mean… four months. (That’s a third of a year, in case you suck at math.) But four months goes by really quickly. I actually did get some stuff done in that time, but I may have been a bit overly optimistic when I came up with that silly floor idea. (Which is weird, because optimism is totally not my thing.) I promise to fill you guys in on what I’ve accomplished lately, but this post is all about this beauty…
October 3rd is National Crappy House Day! (Good thing it’s a Saturday so you don’t have to explain to your boss why you can’t go into work…) Not only is it my birthday (for reals), but it’s also my blog’s birthday as well. What a coincidence! (Hey, that’s joincidence with a “c”…)
Sometimes a job is just too big. Even for me. As much as I like to be the one who does all the work so I can brag about it and then you guys can tell me how amazing I am, sometimes I have to just get the hell out of the way and let a pro take over. This job was over my head. Literally.
I have one… two… three floors (AH AH AH!) to install in my crappy house.
For the last few months, I’ve been going through all of the boxes I’ve had packed for the last 5 years. I had forgotten about a lot of my stuff. It was sort of like Christmas, except the gifts were wrapped in smelly cardboard, they were all used, and, once I saw them, I did remember them.
OMG, do I suck at making decisions! I agonize over them. Because once I choose something, it’s chosen. I have to live with it. No backsies. It’s ridiculously easy for me to remain stalled in a state of indecision purgatory. It’s sooo comfortable here. I have Netflix and Doritos here. Who needs a kitchen? And as long I remain here, my house is firmly grounded in potential. It could be anything when it grows up. And I can keep hoping it will win a scholarship to pay for it all.Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, house.
When I was a kid, I used to draw all the time. I always carried a sketchbook around school, just hoping someone would ask me to see it. They’d flip through my fantastically life-like pencil drawings of celebrities (my favorite subject) and say, “Like, oh my God! These are so awesome! You’re, like, so talented!” (That’s how we talked back then.) Then I would say, “I know, ryte?” It always made me feel good. I’m an attention whore from way back…
Life is full of disappointments. For example, if you were excited thinking I actually wrote a post about Fifty Shades of Grey, the movie… well, then there’s one right there. (And, also… Seriously?)
I know. You’ve been wondering when I’m going to get around to doing another big project at my crappy house. It’s all you can think about. (Besides thinking about your own life and stuff.) The problem with the big projects (besides funding…) is that they’re related to other big projects. There’s a chain of events that has to happen before I can get to the really big ones. This post is about that chain. (All about that chain. ‘Bout that chain. No project.)