... Yeah.... because "nesting" sounds LOADS better than "psychotic". My random project du jour is painting my downstairs bathroom (well, "water closet" since it's about 3'x5' and holds a toilet and a sink smaller than your Nalgene bottle). Why? Well, I got tired to trying to convince myself that the grime in the 102-year-old bathroom is on the Historic Register and that I should respect that it has adorned the pure-white walls for longer than I've been potty-trained. Honestly, I was in that bathroom scrubbing a different surface every other day and every time I sat down to pee, I stewed over the dingy walls and how the glaring white made everything else look all the more gross. So I decided to give up on bleach and toss in the (paper) towel and paint it instead.
So that's what I'm doing. My back is killing me and my fat stomach has smears of paint on the very front of it because the room is too small to accommodate my mass without touching the walls, but with enough coats, I'll get there.
If only I weren't obsessive about cleanliness.
We'll just chalk it up to nesting...
I was once Melissa, then I became Wife. Soon Wife became Jack's Mommy. Before I knew it, there were 4. I am our Zookeeper; at once Melissa, Wife AND Mom of 4. And these are my thoughts...
1 comment:
You can definitely call it nesting, or you can call it "having normal living standards!" LOL- I went through the exact same thing when we moved into this 1892 POS house last year. Cleaned absolutely every single surface I could reach in every room, then decided it wasn't good enough even then, and then we hired a maid service and charged our landlord. After the maids were done, I cleaned the entire house AGAIN.
Good luck and I hope your back feels better- I can't imagine how you must feel because mine is pretty bad right now too.
Love,
C:)
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