It took me almost an hour to decide to paint my room yellow. Then it began. At first it was fine, it was fun almost. It was like the movies when they are painting the white picket fence and it looks very easy and calm. The movies lied, no surprise there. After about two hours of holding that stupid roller in my hand I had about had it.Sitting on the floor of my bedroom, staring at the yellow wall I began to ponder if there really were any perks at all to painting walls. Eventually you have rough and sore hands from using the roller, and your fingers and muscles hurt from moving furniture and reaching as high as you can. Covered in paint, and suffocating in the aroma of paint brings tears to your eyes. A lot of people joke about how you get High off of painting and you start laughing for no reason, well that only happens while you are painting with company. I was painting alone, and so the fumes did something a little different to me I suppose.
So there I was, a blanket of paint over me, my face tear stained, my hair tattered, and muscles sore. Ready to quit and live in a box outside my house then ever lay eye's on that bloody yellow room ever again! When I realized I had finished.
Oh the sweetness of a steamy hot shower after a long hard day's work!
