My parents are coming to visit in two weeks so we've been busy with little projects around the house. You know, those things you keep meaning to get to but don't actually do until someone important comes to stay. Ibis did a couple things from his list this morning - including hanging my hammock chair - and borrowed some paint from the workers downstairs so I could do one of my big projects: painting the bathroom.
We painted bright colors throughout the house and have been happy with our choices except for the bathroom. It's technically not the bathroom; the toilet and shower are in a room with a door and the sink/vanity are in the hallway. Kind of like a hotel. We painted that area a reddish-orange color, not realizing it would absorb any light that crept into the hall, leaving nothing for us to see by. Since I have all the free time I offered to repaint it white, I just needed the paint.
The workers gave him a cut-off bleach bottle filled with white paint and I went to work. THREE coats later it looks great - almost no trace of the former color. Proud of my accomplishment, I turned on my computer to check my email and mentally prepare myself to edit my final two chapters.
The unused paint was calling to me.
I couldn't let it go to waste so I wandered around the house to see if anything needed touching up. Four hours later I have painted every white surface in the place, including baseboards, walls, doorjambs, the balcony, and the front entrance - including halfway down the stairs.
The paint is gone and the house looks beautiful, but I haven't eaten or done any work on my book. I really need to get this done because I plan to spend most of tomorrow watching football and I'd like to do it guilt-free.
So you tell me, was that procrastination or just being productive?