Color Me Tired

HH decided he would spend his days off painting at the new house. I told him we could probably get someone to do it for a reasonable amount, but you know Frugal MacDougal was not interested in that at all.

Hence, the mad dash to pick paint colors. What should have been fun has turned into a colossal pain. I don’t even know if I’m fully happy with the colors, but he wanted to paint, so I had to pick.

Then he kept changing plays on me like a football coach with Tourette’s. Look dude, if you tell me to pick the room decor and how we’re setting up each room, don’t come behind me like little Phil from Gloria talmbout, “I’m the man!” and changing ish.

Like how he changed from Behr to Glidden, after I had already picked colors. Or how he thought he wasn’t going to paint our bathroom to match our bedroom. Or how he told me to pick the comforter for the new king sized bed, only to complain about the color.

You see where this is going? This, on top of the crap going on at work with our transition to another new computer system.

Full on “do it ya #%^*{! self” rant, complete with hormonal break down.

Ahem. We seem to be on one accord now, though. Our bedroom and bathroom are painted, and he’s about to finish painting Baby H’s room. I’m sticking around to see if my last minute color choice (thanks to his paint switch) comes out like I planned.

Then I’m going back to the rental. This weekend I would like to pack up the majority of the dishes.

And not have any more hormonal outbursts.

I can’t make any promises on either. LOL

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