Unlike people who have actual jobs, I don't care much for weekends.  I like not having to drive Josie to school and I like having the kids around, but weekends are usually so packed with activities that I don't  get any time to do what I like to do.  That's pretty much my definition of busy; can I indulge myself, or not?  What I like to do best is what I do all week, which some people would call "work" but when you have a fake job, like I do, it's fun.  Some people wouldn't consider being alone for six hours at a stretch with no one to talk to but the radio ( my best friends are Laura, Dennis and Rush ) but I'm a hermit at heart, so it suits me fine.  It probably has a little to do with the fact that I grew up in a barn full of very noisy people, so now I really cherish my alone time.  Then again, I was the only one in the family who scored her own room, (Woody had a 6x10' space which constitutes a closet, not a room.  And then there was that guy under the front stairs, but we were never sure who he was so he doesn't count) I had my own room, which I hid in for 12 years, so that's probably not it.  Oh, oh wait...it's because I hate people.
Okay, not really.  My favorite thing in the world is when all my kids are home, but none of them are in the same room with me.

Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted?

I painted over the glaze on the red wall.  I hated it.  The glaze on the orange walls is perfect, giving the walls a lovely, subtle, parchmenty look.  I tried two colors of glaze on the terra cotta wall, and no matter what I tried it looked like vandalism.  It reminded me of when we did our kitchen and I tried a pink and purple combo that looked like someone projectile vomited blood all over.  Yum.  Just what you want in the kitchen.  I called it the 'lose weight through horror' decor.  So now I have three perfect orange glaze walls and one perfect deep dark red wall.  And 106 bleepin feet of unprimed moulding. 

If I had invested in a pair of sawhorses, like my Mom did, painting the moulding would've been easy.  Of course I didn't think of that until I had spent three hours on the floor, doing a squatting duck walk the length of my living room with a brush in one hand and a can of paint in the other, scootching along the floor like some kind of crustacian. Every once in a while my legs would just give out and I'd sort of tip over.  This of course made me laugh.  I just wish one of my kids had come in and seen me rolling about on the floor, covered in paint with tears of laughter running down my face.  It was a little sad that no one was there to enjoy the spectacle but me. Anyway, a pair of sawhorses would've come in handy.  I never plan out the easy way to do these things.  I always just dive in head first and spend the rest of the day icing my scalp.

Mary Jeanne once said she thought I was a highly functional autistic and sometimes I think she's right.

 

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