The Great Paint Fiasco of 2020
My son’s move into his own place started a chain reaction of cleaning, sorting, organizing, trashing, and donating.
I started by going up into the attic each day I was off and bringing down three or four plastic tubs. I’d clean the tubs off (yes, a little OCD over here), go through them, and sort everything out: things for my son to go through, items to donate, and things to trash. It took weeks, many trips to Goodwill, and even a trip to the dump. Oh, and a lot of work.
The end of the cleaning and organizing marked the beginning of the paint fiasco. I won’t bore you with the details; let’s just say that the closet doors have been five different colors over the last few weeks, with today’s color being the final. The bathroom and bedroom doors have been three colors, the trim has been three colors, and the accent wall started with no sparkles—now it looks like Tinkerbell went out drinking all night, came home, and vomited all over it (in a good way).
I’m hoping that I’m able to fall asleep quickly tonight, since, for the first time in weeks, my brain won’t be racing through ideas of what color might look right on those dumb doors. I’m also hoping it won’t be a repeat of last night where all I can think of (and smell) is paint.
I’m so glad that I’m finally happy with the colors. I knew I wouldn’t stop until I got that room exactly how I want it because I was getting tired—tired of moving stuff around so I could get to baseboards, tired of painting, tired of thinking about painting, and tired in general. I’m not complaining; I’m just saying that it was time for the madness to stop. I mean, who loses sleep over paint colors? Me, that’s who.
Sometimes I hate that I can’t mute my mind and that I can’t rest until things are just so. But if I wasn’t this way, I wonder if I’d ever get anything done. I guess that wanting—no, needing—things to be a certain way is a great motivator.
And it’s probably also a good thing to not settle for just okay. Whether it’s friendships, relationships, or paint colors, I think we should keep trying until we find what makes us happy.
As for me, I’m finally happy with my colors, and I have a feeling I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.
Also, I refuse to start thinking about that hideous wallpaper and floor in the bathroom of that room . . . yet.