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Ol’ Painty Can Madeleine Part II: Can I Paint That?

I don’t know what is happening in my brain, maybe spending so much time indoors has made me crazy from all the time spent indoors what with the time indoors and the not going outdoors and the BEING INSIDE ALL THE DAYS, but I want to throw everything in my house onto the curb and start over (or donate it to a deserving family who would then turn out to be rich  (RICH!) and give me $250,000 for my generosity, which I would then spend refurnishing my house in a style that isn’t “Five Years Ago No-Money Ikea-Will-Do-For-Now/Forever”)

But, because that hasn’t happened yet and I STILL have no money, I keep obsessing about ways to refurbish (or upcycle, to use trendy hipster jargon) our existing posessions.

Mostly this involves paint.

Paint and Adam’s head exploding from me pointing at random objects and saying “Can I paint that?”

Things like our ugly Office Depot black filing cabinet, that I want to transform into THIS, because vintage filing cabinets are ridiculously expensive and the woman in town who has one in her shop has stopped speaking to me because I have pestered  her about it so much (Hey Ruth, PRO TIP: If you don’t want to sell it,  MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T PUT IT ON DISPLAY IN YOUR STORE FOR TURQUOISE OBSESSED CRAZIES TO GET LADY BONERS OVER. Hypothetically speaking.)

            

And our basic white curtains that I want to transform into THIS, except in a rich mustard yellow because all of the chevron curtains I have found are approximately $2349693

And our wooden headboard that I want to turn into THIS!

And our gross rusty baseboard heaters that came with the house, that I want to turn into THIS!

            

(okay ew not as rusty as this, but close)

Is it too much paint? It’s too much paint.

(But is it?)

I don’t know, I can’t tell anymore. I’ve been locked up in here for so long I have no idea how the world works, maybe everyone paints all of the objects in their house every two weeks, how should I know?

Adam also has no right to be giving me the crazy eyes over this- because of that dude I currently have five dryers in my house. FIVE.  Oh what? That’s weird? Why, how many do you have?

ONE?!

Also one of my favorite Twitter ladies, JennyJohnsonHi5 once tweeted the following

I wish people’s voices actually sounded the way they do when their spouse/partner imitates them during an argument.

YES Jenny. The other day Adam picked me up for work and within the span of five minutes managed to send me into a rage, the likes of which I haven’t experienced in years.

 It had snowed the night before, but he hadn’t scraped anything other than the windshield, so he had zero visibility out of the side or rear windows (SAFETY HAZARD guys), Gus was lounging in the backseat without the seat cover on, evenly distributing a thick layer of fur and drool over the upholstery, Adam wasn’t wearing his seat belt and when I gave him some Spanikopita I made for lunch he just started shoving them into his mouth while driving ( and if you’re keeping track, that’s eating while driving, no seat belt, no visibility and a 170 lb furry projectile in the backseat).

I looked at him sitting there shoving food into his mouth with his hands, spilling all over the car I had just spent like two hours cleaning a few days prior, spinach juice dripping down his fingers and phyllo pastry flaking off into the cupholders and between the seats and it was one of the transcendent “Who the hell have I married?” moments.

And then I started yelling. If my life was a sitcom there would have been trucks passing with horns blaring every few seconds, bleeping out every second word.

When he picked me up later that night I was significantly more calm/less stabby and we laughed about it, and as we drove away he pulled out a dead-on screeching impression of my blow-up: “AAADDAMM! YOU’RE SPILLING EVERYWHERRRREE! WHY ARE SO SUCH A SLOOBBBBBB? OH MY GOODDDDDDDD” and I tried to record it for you, but he refused to do it again, and in that moment I really wish that my voice DID sound like that.

But it’s more likely that I’d be screeching “ADDAAAMMMMM, WHY CAN’T I PAIIIIIINNNTTT THAT?”

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