Bad Memory

I hate painting. I really do. It stinks. I think I would rather deal with ugly walls than paint them myself. Come to think of it maybe I am just lazy and I really don't hate painting at all? No, I hate it. I mean the lazy thing could be true also but, even if it is I still hate painting.

We're finishing with this house. That means I am going around painting all those little bits of trim that never were finished. And did I mention I hate painting? Well, at least we are almost done.

However, there is this other issue that is still looming ahead. When we got our bid back for the new house there was a line item for painting the interior (there will be no paint on the exterior) And the price for this you ask? You did ask didn't you? Ahem, $17,000. Uh-huh. I told Casey that it had to be a typo and it must be $7,000 and even that seemed high to me. He said he would check on it and he did. And there was no typo. Here's where my trouble comes in. I started running my mouth- and you know I never do that, must have been a moment of weakness- and I tell him I will NEVER pay someone $17,000 for painting, that's some kind of craziness I will NOT be participating in well, I will just do it myself. Yep, caught it didn't you? I said I would do it. I do not want to do it. Our ceilings range from 9 to 12 feet tall and there will be trim for miles. I do NOT want to do it.

So, we are just going to have to hope that the man who can't remember my birthday, Valentine's Day or Mother's Day until exactly 12 hours before they occur will not remember what I said about the painting.