Housey Things and ZOMBIES

Things are afoot around here. House-upkeeping, wallet-draining, insomnia-inducing, marriage-testing things.

You may remember this recent post, when I whined and complained about not having any moneeeee to paaaaint and improoove, waaaah. (And if you are that random person who left a negative, finger-wagging comment, please know that a) you fail at reading comprehension, b) I'm obviously so over you, right?, since I'm mentioning you here, and c) I bet you think Jonathan Swift really ate babies.) Well, looks like I'm going to have to completely backtrack and eat my words, because we are facing the simultaneous thrill and terror that is a relatively serious home project.

And when I say "facing," I mean "starting tonight and working every moment that kids are sleeping, because otherwise they will ruin everything, and also the larger part of this project will last all summer, ZOMG WHAT ARE WE DOING WHY ARE WE NOT RENTERS." That's what I mean.

I'm going to stay vague and misty for now, as I'd like to do a big reveal, lookee-here post once things are done (or at least mostly done, because honestly, only people with big monies and big dreams get rooms all the way done right at once, amiright?), but I will leave you with some clues, in case you care.

Clue the first: Paint. Lotsa paint.
Clue the second: Think gray. Think accents of white.
Clue the third: Star Wars sheets.
Clue the fourth: Four blue, full-size, metal high school lockers.

Are you smelling my gas yet?

Well, good, because that's just foul.

See ya on the flip side! I'll probably be emerging high on paint fumes, so please treat me gently.

ps: Are you mayhaps lost on the "eating babies" comment? Did that make you recoil in disgust? Fear not, gentle reader! I am not a zombie, nor am I promoting said living-challenged individuals! I am referencing a wonderful work of satire that really paved the way for modern satire. Since it's so old, you can read it online for freebies, like so. Take a moment and do a better job at life than that one random reader.