I really want to throw my arms across a bar,
lay my head on them,
I'm beginning to think my dad was right;
of picking paint.
I've lost count of the number of trips I've made
and how many paint samples I've bought.
If we haven't hit double digits yet,
I am no closer to finding
It's all making me very weary.
In addition to the paint choice angst I'm dealing with,
when I was at the paint store today
(not to be confused with when I was there yesterday.
or Friday (twice).....)
a lady (probly 10 yrs older than me) and I were chatting,
and she asked how many kids I had.
I told her 8,
and added that they were spread out over 22 years.
And she said,
"You must have waited a while before you started."
I'm still trying to come up with a response.
But you can see why
I'd really like to fling myself on a bar,
*I don't necessarily mean a bar bar,
it's just that a bar is the right height for upper body flopping on.
(for a short person)
(which I am)
(though I am apparently an ancient short person.)
**to be fair - Dad was joking.
*** but it does sorta feel as if he was being prophetic...
****I checked the mirror when I got home;
I wasn't looking especially haggard
*****If you're curious,
(and I'm sure you are ;-)
this elusive color is a light grey/blue/green
it's more color than white,
but it reads as a neutral - not really a color,
and makes the space feel
Like a slow contented sigh.