The un-post

January 20th, 2010
Musings

Yesterday I started writing a post about purging my closet of skinny shirts. Meaning, those shirts I never wear due to excessive flesh.

Problem was, once I started writing I felt compelled to turn the post into a polished personal essay. I have so much to say on the topic of body image, and so many anecdotes came to mind that linked together in a pleasant literary way, and I couldn’t stand the thought of just posting a few stream-of-consciousness thoughts but I didn’t have the time or energy or desire to do anything more.

So I didn’t post. I took a nap instead.

This morning I realized that if I can’t jettison my posting hang-ups, Queen Serene will die a quick and shameful death. Here’s the situation: I don’t want to write essays for my personal blog. I write them for other online forums, and I enjoy that immensely. But they’re a lot of work. I don’t want to work hard on my own blog. I want to vomit words onto the screen and then immediately flush (i.e., hit “publish”).

Thus far, this is an approach I’ve only used on my private blogs. Which most of you haven’t read, and for good reason. But I’d like to try a modified version here and now. While keeping the content appropriate for public consumption, I’d like to experiment with letting the delivery be spontaneous and messy.

Here’s my first triumph: I was about to end this post and start a new one because I’m about to start writing on a different topic. The tidy, logical left brain says this warrants a new post. But see, I’m not starting one. Baby steps, people.

So, this morning I put a third coat of paint on the family room ceiling. Yes, a third coat. It was a spotty coat, because all I did was walk around with the roller-on-a-stick (reminds me of hot-dog-on-a-stick) and swipe the spots that looked patchy. In retrospect, I probably should’ve just done the whole damn ceiling again, because the extra-coated spots are now going to make the rest of the ceiling look patchy by comparison.

Let me say a few words about this ceiling. First of all, it’s big. About 500 square feet. Second, before I pulled the roller out, it hadn’t been painted for well over a decade. Possibly two, or even three decades. Our house was built in 1978, and there’s a very good chance this was the original coat of paint. The reason why I suspect this is that the paint was no longer white; it was a muddy grayish-brown. Semi-gloss.

I don’t think I need to explain how satisfying it was/is to slap ultra bright flat white paint over that murky mess.

Some thoughts I had while doing so:

–Painting is like getting a shot. The anticipation is far worse than the actual doing. Whenever I finish a painting project I always think, “why did I wait so long to get that done?”

–Painting is actually the easy part of painting. Prepping the walls is what sucks.

–Painting ceilings really sucks, but painting bathrooms is worse.

Oh man, I’m so tempted to go back and erase these sentences and write a cohesive, thoughtful paragraph instead. I WILL NOT.

–This ceiling was a (expletive) to paint because it is so big and so far away from my center of gravity, but it was also relatively fun to paint because I didn’t have to use any masking tape (because I’m painting the walls next) and I didn’t have to protect the floor (because the rug will soon be gone) and I didn’t have to move any furniture (because we recently trashed almost all the furniture in the room).

–I’ve given up on good timing for projects like this. The only way any home improvement gets done around here is if I do it in spite of the number of kids around, the other demands on the day, etc. I hauled the huge bucket of ceiling paint right into the middle of a teeming mass of my posterity lounging in front of the x-box in honor of MLK day, and got to work.

–While I wonder why I didn’t paint that disgusting ceiling sooner (I’ve hated it ever since we moved in 8.5 years ago) I recognize that this week was the right time. This made me think about all the other improvements that need to be made in my house. I get overwhelmed when I consider them all. I get angry that I don’t have a large pile of money to spend immediately so I can get them all done. It’s really hard to do just one little bit at a time. And there are projects that I can’t imagine ever getting done. (Warning: deep thought coming!) It’s the same way with my life. I want to clean and fix everything that’s wrong with me, all at once. And I can’t. And while I might spend ten years thinking “I really need to get that particular problem taken care of,” the right time will eventually come and I’ll see myself doing it and think, “Wow, check it out! I’m actually taking care of this disgusting muddy ceiling! Finally!”

Yes, that’s the point I wanted to get to: at some point I will finally conquer all my demons. But don’t hold your breath.

Skinny shirt post tomorrow, maybe.

Trackback URL.