I don’t know how long it took me to re-grout the shower. All I know is that it took almost to the second, the length of the extended edition of High Violet, with which I presume you are familiar.
The spare living room paint has shrivelled into a husk of extinction (may or may not have involved some shoddy lid closing) and I am somehow supposed to determine which alternative colour is a suitable replacement. Everything is either too pink, too pale too bright or too blue. I’m not sure which is the lesser evil. Why can’t homebase perpetually sell a shade called truffle that in no way resembles an actual truffle?
It’s largely academic because today encompassed the challenge of bedroom repainting, and that colour choice was stressful enough. What actually was the current shade? Did we want that or one shade lighter? Silk/sheen/matt? Well. I suspect we went with shade 3 because it’s just a better number than 4, and soft sheen because that was a halfway house between silk and matt, and chosing one extreme of the shiny vs matt spectrum was just a bit too dangerous for a Tuesday.
When you choose a finish for your interior paints, you consider how dark the room is, how you want it to feel and how shiny you’d like it to look. What you probably don’t think about (and you really should) are how good your plaster or plasterboard are, and how skillfully you can paint.
I can tell you for free that if you have dodgy plaster or minimal painting and rollering (phone wanted to write toileting there…) skills then for the love of god’s large and small, don’t buy silk. Or soft sheen. Matt is your friend (well he’s SO’s friend actually but I guess by proxy he is mine also) and the paint variety (rather than the wedding planning variety) will cover a multitude of sins, the latter will cover only one night of wine, but I guess that could entail several sins if you really go for it.
I digress. The sheen on the wall shows each paint stroke, magnificently reflecting every speck and weird kink in the plasterboard. I think it’s an improvement on the silk I did last time but I’m not sure that the ends justified the amount of muscle ache that it cost. I should have gambled on the possible oppressive claustrophobia of the matt finish, but we live and learn. At least I can fill out a box for tomorrow’s therapy session saying how I finally achieved something that wasn’t just sitting on my royal arse feeling sorry for myself. But now of course I’m kicking myself for the paint choice and lack of skill. Apparently I’m not supposed to do that, but really, feeling a bit crap about it now aught to remind me the next time that paint buying comes around that I cannot be trusted to gauge the situation. I’m not even sure why I ended up painting the bedroom when the hallway and bathrooms have the greater need.
Sigh.
I have definitely earned an episode of Lucifer after all that. If that means nothing to you, It’s an Amazon series about a character concocted by Neil Gaiman.
Annnyway I will take my painting-induced angina (heartburn? Probably heartburn…right?), and grief and bid you adeiu.