On a scale of 1 to 10, my pain level is at least an 8. I cannot sleep because I hurt so much. I know that if I could sleep some, I would feel better, but the catch-22 has me trapped. My hands feel like stuffed sausages. My forearms are so tight it is hard to use them at all. My shoulders hurt so much I cannot raise my arms. My back is screaming. My feet are swollen and feel as if knives are sticking in the bottom of them. My legs are stiff and sore as if I ran a marathon. And my neck has shooting pains if I am not holding it perfectly still. I am in agony. I thought yesterday was bad. I was wrong. It actually is possible to hurt more.
Oh, yeah, the parlor is finished. And the bed in the basement.
- Amos has oil-based paint on his ears from where he tried to crawl beneath the bed frame.
- The parlor got another set of puppy paw prints across the floor.
- Amos' training got set back weeks on end since his momma was to distracted painting to properly watch the clock.
- And Amos is so exhausted from completely destroying the paint roller that he has already gone back to sleep.
My painting cost me $29, when the painter quoted $100 for the room. Somehow, that doesn't really seem like such a savings anymore.
Sunshine might be able to trim and hem curtains for me, so I shall wait to post the finished product photos for now. I will, though, if nothing else to remind me of my folly and to help me remember to never, ever do this again.
It is going to be at least a four Dr Pepper day!
2 comments:
Sounds like you have properly talked yourself out of it. If the idea strikes you again, we will be sure to bop you one on the side of the head. :)
Please do! Even in my agony, I am already waffling...maybe...just the hallway???????
SIGH.
Stupid me.
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