I've moved on from stripping wallpaper now. I've graduated to slopping primer around.
I stripped wall paper for so long, I considered becoming a professional stripper.
Available evenings and weekends.
Ha. Ha.
But now I'm onto primer. Primer on the ceilings, primer on the walls. Everywhere that was textured now needs another coat of primer.
I'm typing with primer-splattered hands even now.
Will I ever blog about anything but house renovations again? Will I ever wear anything but these paint-splattered jeans and this holey WSU sweatshirt? Hmm.
I guess there has to be a correlation between priming walls and life. At least priming walls and writing the next great American novel.
I've had a lot of time to think about it as I listened to the slurp of the roller along the wall ... And here it is, my deep, exhausted thought of the day:
Both take practice.
You learn to paint by painting. A lot.
You learn to write by writing. A lot.
Any other deep thoughts from my readers out there?
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