ah sweet exhaustion
Sep. 5th, 2004 06:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alonewiththemoonToday I painted the bedroom a nice slate silvery grey with faint purple-ish undertones. It took me Medulla by Bjork, International Latino by Tarkan and most of Ayishteni which I have not spelled correctly by Natasha Atlas to paint the room, from prep to finish. It looks lovely and peaceful and serene, although I did not do an excellent job where the walls meet the ceiling. In my defense, though, I was standing on a chair that was a little too short for the job and whoever did the plasterwork on the ceiling wasn't very careful about slopping on the walls, so there isn't even really a clear line between wall and ceiling anyway. If it bugs me as time goes on, I guess I could paint some quarter-round and nail it on. Or maybe do some drapy thing with fabric. Actually, that doesn't sound like a bad idea.
Every muscle in my body is sore, though. Between climbing the chair and stretching to the ceiling on the one extreme and hunching up to paint the edge by the baseboard, I think I have contracted and stretched my muscles in every conceivable direction. Now I am eating pasta with homemade pesto and feeling the breezes with their promise of fall wash over my skin and relishing knowing that after all this, after driving myself to this point of exquisite emptiness, I still have another day left to the weekend. It is a good moment. I probably should get started on sewing the skirts for my troupe's performance next Saturday, but you know what? I'm not going to. This moment is free of expectations and burdens.
Every muscle in my body is sore, though. Between climbing the chair and stretching to the ceiling on the one extreme and hunching up to paint the edge by the baseboard, I think I have contracted and stretched my muscles in every conceivable direction. Now I am eating pasta with homemade pesto and feeling the breezes with their promise of fall wash over my skin and relishing knowing that after all this, after driving myself to this point of exquisite emptiness, I still have another day left to the weekend. It is a good moment. I probably should get started on sewing the skirts for my troupe's performance next Saturday, but you know what? I'm not going to. This moment is free of expectations and burdens.
