Hey Kids!
First, I want to thank everyone who sent me well wishes yesterday. Oh it warmed my heart and made me strong :) I didn't have a chance to talk to many people, because everything was a wee bit chaotic--and after the chaos, I spent 4 hours painting the bedroom. As I worked on the final wall my doorbell rang. UPS. I answered the door covered in paint and wearing the world's most unflattering outfit. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The day started at 6am. The movers were slated to come at 8:30 and I still hadn't finished packing. I scrawled down some notes on the back of a receipt before collapsing into sleep. Things like: Pack Hammer!! Don't forget glasses! Phone charger!!!!
It all got done and then the movers came. I remembered that the door buzzer was broken, so I ran down to let them in--BUT, I forgot my keys and locked us all out. I was sure that Chuck didn't know about the buzzer, and he didn't. I buzzed him. The movers called him. Nada. It took a good (loooong and painful) 10 minutes for him to come down. Of course, I'd asked Chuck to make sure the cats were locked up in his office, but in the chaos of the lock-out, Cupcake went free and ran to the kitchen. Chuck watched her while the movers moved.
15 minutes later, my stuff was stowed in the moving truck. I had called a car to take me to the new apartment, but of course it was late. So I waited and waited on the curb while holding a small sewing machine, a curtain rod, and my Guitar Hero guitar.
The movers were done in a flash, and I counted out 20 $20s and sent them off.
For a brief spell I sat on my new bed, and then I headed out into the neighborhood. I stopped at C-Town and bought some Gatorade and iced tea. It's a nice, clean little store and only half a block from my apartment. From there a bought a bagel for brunch, and then made a stop at the paint store.
At home, I started taping off the bedroom while I waited for the cable guy. He came early and I have cable--but it's screwed up. (Anyone want to help me figure it out? I'm flummoxed). And then I started to paint. The painting was a little terrifying, but I did it. And it's not half bad. In fact, in the light of day it's pretty snappy. God bless A.R. for being my paint guru, and for buying me an edger. Man, I needed that edger. I wish I could have used it more around the base boards--but the previous paint jobs were so clumpy and weird, there's not much a girl could do. When you come to visit, just don't look down.
I would write more about painting, but my arms hurt so much, I can hardly stand it. Ouch. It feels like the time I spent the afternoon rowing a boat and my arms hurt so much, I wanted to chop them off at the shoulder.
I've decided to pay a guy to paint the living room. It's a bigger room, and I'd rather not have it splattered with my "oopsies." For the bedroom, fine. "Oopsies" abound and I don't mind a bit.