To you, to me. 23/01/2010
‘If at first you don’t succeed . . . Give up. Because the chances are you’ll probably always be a little bit s**t at it.’ There. Take it. And keep the sentence somewhere safe so that, in the unlikely event of my temporarily suffering from amnesia and attempting to decorate again, you can ram the sentence down my throat and make me eat my own words. Because decorating is NOT fun. A good work-(wo)man never blames her tools. But it was their fault. Probably cos they were cheap and if you pay for peanuts you get crap. The soft cushiony bit of the roller thingy keeps sliding away from the handle and every time I roll with too much enthusiasm, (not that I’m feeling that enthusiastic now,) the squidgy-bits flies off and splatters emulsion around the room. And I’m covered, literally covered, in paint. I have tiny, weeny splattered dots climbing up my arms, drips on my face and in my hair and I am not a happy bunny. I’m now ‘taking a break’ from a job that I shouldn’t have started in the first place. I knew I shouldn’t have started, I could see the expression on Jay’s face when I walked in from the shed with all the decorating stuff in my arms. He knows there’s little point in interfering when I’m on a mission, yet he might as well have sighed loudly and said, ‘Here she goes again,’ or something along those lines. He’s avoiding helping at all costs, because , like his stupid wife, he is also rubbish at decorating, only he knows it. Subsequently he's taken refuge in the pub and left me to it. And somehow I’ve got to prove him wrong for doubting my decorating abilities in the first place. The thing is he’s right. I am rubbish at decorating. Only I keep forgetting. I thought it would be easy since it’s only the bathroom, it’s not huge and I’m not wall-papering, (the last time I attempted to wallpaper the paste proved insufficient and the entire family had to literally hold the paper up against the wall to keep it up! You see? Not my fault. Crappy tools again.) I’m wondering whether it would be okay if left as it is? I mean it still functions as a bathroom. Everything still works. There are a few little drips of paint in the bath, but they’ll wash out, surely? And I think bluey-white is a nice unique shade anyway? Obviously I’ll have to hoover up the bits of shattered glass that flew around the room when I fitted the roller with an extension pole and began unintentionally smashing stuff. It must have looked as though I were auditioning to be the third Chuckle Brother. First I smashed my Jo Malone Vanilla candle and then I turned around to see what I’d smashed and accidentally whacked the crystal bubbles from my pot of random pretty stuff that lives in the bathroom. Perhaps I should have listened to Jay when he told me to clear the room before I started. I wish painting was as easy in my real life as it is here, in my virtual world on the P.C. I could just click a few times and it would be whatever colour I wanted? When are they gonna invent that? Probably not in the next half hour so I guess I’d better get on with it. It’s taken about 7 hours so far, and I’m about half-way through, so if any of you feel compelled to come help please do so :-) In the meantime I shall return to lay in the drippy, bluey-white bed I’ve made myself :-/ Steph x 2 Comments |




