DAMAGE! Something just occurred to me… when I was diagnosed with MS, I decided I was going to milk the H out of it and use the diagnosis to get out of allsortsa crap I didn’t want to do. Things like standing on a ladder and scraping paint off my house. “Sorry, I can’t. I have MS.” Or stuff like running marathons or doing pioneer treks. “Nope, I can’t go to Girls Camp, Bishop. I’ve got the MS.”
Now I can’t do that anymore. Snap! I guess the benefits of being able to walk will comfort me as I mourn losing my Golden Ticket For Getting out of EVERYTHING.
Sorry about that tangent. I was thinking about how I could never stand up on a ladder scraping paint off my second story, and then I thought, “Well, maybe I could, I’m not as dizzy as I used to be.” (And really, Yay! for that.) But, I’m still pretty sure I would manage to kill myself while undertaking that task.
I bought paint for the house today. Phillipsburg blue. And I’ve been staring at it on the house for what? A month? Totally sure it was the right choice, very happy with it, very confident it would make Pemberley look amazing. And yet the second I paid for the twenty-something gallons of paint, I started to panic that it was going to be too dark or too blue or not dark enough or too gray and that I would hate it and be stuck with an ugly house that I can’t afford to repaint.
It will work out, though. The white trim paint we inherited is so bad, like dreadfully awful, I have to wonder what type of paint they used in the first place. And so that alone will be a tremendous improvement. I have had to creatively angle my pictures outside so that you wouldn’t notice how bad the trim was. It was really, really bad. Did you notice? I probably wasn’t as sneaky as I thought.