I painted an entire room the last two days. I did it almost exclusively by myself. I had about 15 minutes of help from my sister’s friends who came to help clean the apartment, but, otherwise: the project was done by me.
When I first walked in to the 11×11′ space I knew I had a large task ahead of me. I didn’t know the last time that room had be thoroughly cleaned (I mean, it was pretty dusty, dirty and full of negative energy) and I still felt like it was the previous roommates’ place. When I looked at the poorly done paint job my ex-roomie had done I could still see the graffiti that had been drawn in with sharpies a few years ago as it bled through the new white paint. I rolled up my sleeves and dug in.
Two days later, that room has never been cleaner. I’ve literally touched every corner, from floor to ceiling, that that room has. I’ve painted, cleaned, wiped and caressed all of the dust balls, paint chips, and leaves I could find out of there.
My arms ache from holding my hands above my head, but man, that room’s a thing of beauty. I even painted the doors.
As I worked I thought: Mine. Mine. Mine. I claim this room!
I could have peed on the floor… and I would have if I didn’t think that was a little gross.
When the “rejuvenate” green was finally dried on the walls, I looked at what I had done: and I saw that it was good.
I said: This Room is Mine! May it be full of smiles!
I move my bedroom furniture into it this weekend.
January 5, 2013 at 2:07 am by Natalie Allen