So, I'm taking the day off tomorrow to finally begin my spring painting project. I'm all excited, and have the freshly bought paint out in my trunk and am loaded up with new brushes and pads. What this means is that within 24 hours, I will have paint in my hair and be using some very unladylike language. All of that notwithstanding, I will have a Lemongrass hallway by tomorrow evening, and I couldn't be happier. Well, at least part of the hallway. I'm going to do the downstairs, and then the upstairs trim so that I can paint the walls up there in a few weeks. The downstairs blissfully has gorgeous wood trim and needs no paint. At least, on purpose. The walls are filthy though, so I ended up selecting the semi-gloss finish. Going up and down the stairs lends itself to wall touching, apparently, and this way it'll wipe right off. Yes, go ahead and think it. I wash walls. I'm crazy.
The walls truly look awful right now, but that's because they haven't been painted, like, since the house was built. In 1935. I'm not joking. And it's all in flat finish, and they look dingier than a warehouse. I'm a machine when I paint, too. It's the reason why I have to take time off from work to do it, instead of trying to paint when Henry is around. Well, granted, there are other logistical issues surrounding why it is a bad idea to paint with your 3 year old "helping" you.
"Mommy look! I painted the (solid oak) cupboard! MMMMOOOMMMYYYY! I got paint *all over me*!"
But when I'm armed with painting tools, watch out sister. I'm feverish in my desire to accomplish, and even surpass, my painting goal. I'm a woman on a mission, I tell you. I'll post some before and afters on Wednesday :)