The Hard Thing
I painted yesterday. One of my least favorite things to do, but I’d priced it out and figured when you have as much time as I do, painting a room, really isn’t that difficult. Unfortunately, I’m a can short and I’m not sure why I didn’t realize I might need two gallons of paint, especially since I had to paint the ceiling. So, now I have to wait until Monday to finish up. That’s okay.
The hardest part of the job was getting started. Primarily because I knew it might be difficult and it was, but only in the tedious physical sense, because I had to paint up over my head. Once I started rolling, however, I took my time and the paint went right on. I think it helped that I bought premium paint, because it covered well and I don’t think I’ll need a second coat. I managed to keep paint splatters to minimum with a wet rag and going slow.
At the end of they day yesterday, I was a satisfied man and knew I was going in the right direction. The newly painted room will look nice and be ready for guests should any come. My oldest son has put his name on the list, and I have a music friend just down the road who will stop by next month. After that, who knows. But it matters not, because at any time I can walk into the room, admire my work, and think, “I did that.” And that feeling of having done the hard, physical, ordinary thing is worth its weight in gold.