And then I painted a room.

I was alone in my house last night for the first time in roughly three years.  The CRAZY thing is that I'm not exaggerating.  Between roommates, house-guests, and a baby, I literally haven't been alone in my house for an entire day and night in three years.  So that's that.

This weekend all my college roommates are coming to town so once the house was mine I took to the broom and dust mop and started cleaning.  Now I typically live by the motto, "I would have cleaned for you but then I wouldn't have invited you over."  But having so much space and time I decided cleaning could be cathartic.  So I set to it.

And then I painted a room.

Here's how it happened.  (The visual this should give you into how my brain works could be a little frightening) I was folding a sheet and decided to put it right on the bed instead so I headed to the guest room.  When I walked through the door I noticed the huge black slash on the front of the door (applied by a previous tenant) that has been bugging me for quite a few years.  There and then I went to the utility room and grabbed the can of white paint.  I found a clean paint brush, grabbed a towel, and painted over the offending mark.

I washed out the brush, cleaned off the paint can, hammered the lid back on and noticed I hadn't put away the winter boots that were sitting in the middle of the utility room floor.  So I organized the utility room.  Then remembered I never put on the sheet.

So I headed to the guest room and noticed immediately that the white paint didn't match the door.  I'd grabbed the wrong can.  CRAP!  After staring at the door grumbling for about three minutes it was determined that I shall not be bested by this door.  I grabbed the paint brush, paint, a roller, and a tray and set to painting the whole side of the door.  Upon completion I looked into the basement living room area and stared at the door that goes into the well.  I've always hated that door.  It sticks out and it doesn't go anywhere.  So I painted that door too.

Realizing this could quickly spiral out of control I washed out the paint brush, tray, and roller.  Re-sealed the paint can and put it back in it's proper place on the shelf.  While looking at the shelf I noticed I had a whole gallon of paint left over from painting the basement bedroom.  Curious I grabbed the can, shook the living daylights out of it, opened it up and decided to paint a test strip on the basement living room wall to see if I liked it.  I did.

Figuring I could at least finish trimming around the north wall I began at the ceiling and worked my way around along the floor trim.  I finished it so quickly I decided I'd just do the south wall while I had everything out.  The whole time I was saying to myself...now keep this under control.  You can roll the walls on Monday.

So I ordered a pizza and sat down on the couch to eat a lovely piece of Sarpinos pizza and a diet Coke.  I flipped on the television and decided I should probably get around to watching the royal wedding...I know, it was almost a month ago.  I don't have a lot of free time.

While partaking in the deliciousness that is pizza and watching the bizarre phenomenon that is royal-wedding-fashion, i.e. what the sam hell is on those ladies heads, I kept looking at the walls and thinking to myself, "it would probably only take me an hour to just finish up the room.

So I painted the room.

This morning as I was pouring myself my morning cup-o-joe I realized I never did make the bed. *sigh*