Today I learned something very important about myself. I hate painting ceilings. I hate painting ceilings that are already a shade of white a different shade of white.
I end up with a sore neck and upper back. And because of that, I apparently didn’t do as good a job as I should have. What I thought was a reflection turned out to be a spot I missed. The blue-ish white of the old was showing through the yellow-ish white of the new. So I grabbed the ladder again and 1″ sponge brush. Went outside to grab the paint can that I was letting dry out before throwing it away. And touched up that spot. And another. And then three or four or more I found.
Then I cleaned up … again … and sat down to relax. As soon as I typed the first sentence of this post, I spotted another thin spot. Out came the brush, ladder and paint can. A few more spots were touched up. I am now scared to look up at the ceiling.
Sure enough, I just did and there was another spot. Did I mention that when I’ve climbed up the ladder, sponge brush in hand, it’s not always easy to spot what I saw from the couch? At what point can I accept the blemishes that are there?
Did I mention I hate painting ceilings?