Sunday

Who would have thunk that there are 1,253,567 shades of white? Eggshell white, Antique white, Plain White, Brilliant White… And that’s just at WalMart! I stood there in the paint aisle this afternoon, transfixed by all the brightly colored containers that held nothing but white paint. If I had gone to a paint store, I would probably still be there, suffering momentous indecision, trying to decide if I want the bedroom to be white, bright white, brilliant white, blinding white, holy-shit-that's-white white, or ecru. What the hell is ecru, anyway?

I settled on brilliant white. The bedroom bespoiled by dog pee was, evidently, also the bedroom the owner’s 6 year old slept in, and the walls are wonderfully decorated in hand prints, hand smears, foot prints, foot smears, grime, dirt, sweat, and crayon. Even after I scrub them clean, they’re not going to look clean, hence the paint.

Last night I waged a mental war over colors: yellow, blue, deep red, two toned, do an accent wall, channel Jackson Pollack and just splatter the heck out of the walls…but in the end I figured white was less of a hassle, and I can always paint it another color some other time.

It’s a small room, after all.

And yes, it’s mine. I get to choose the colors and what goes in it, because I do, after all, need a place to hide when the Spouse Thingy is snoring at decibels so high a freight train could pass under the window and no one would realize. I’m such an adventurous person that I opted for white.

Brilliant white, mind you.

But white nonetheless.

I’m so exciting…

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