The funny thing about this virus is that as long as I’m moving and moving fast, I’m fine. Once I slow down though the snot fills my poor head and leaks out of me in a stream that is unstoppable by any tissue or weak over the counter cold medication.
And actually that worked out fine this weekend. I set myself the task of repainting the main floor of my house while the children were with their father. Under normal circumstances it would not have needed repainting after a mere two and a half years, but when I last painted it I was seduced by a color called Imperial Sand. I selected that chip and a handful of others, which I stuck on my wall those many months ago. Then I asked my friends to help me choose which chip represented the most soothing, neutral beige.
I do love bright colors, but the problem with my house (other than the fact that it needs another bedroom, a self-cleaning feature and to be paid off) is that the main level is entirely open. Everything flows, which means that a color started in the kitchen must continue all the way through dining room, living room, basement stairs, entryway and upstairs hallway. “Surely there is some place to make the break,” everyone says, and yet when I challenge them to find that sweet spot they cannot. It does not exist. One neutral color must work for all.
So my friends one by one nixed paint chips. “Too dark,” was one. “Too green,” was another. Finally we whittled it down to a trio of likely candidates, at which point I bought samples of each color and applied them to the walls in various locations so as to see them in different levels of light. And once again I called in my friends. They all agreed that Imperial Sand was the perfect neutral shade. I bought five gallons.
As I spread it on the walls I began to fear that I’d made a mistake, because instead of soothing sand the color looked more like Piglet Pink. “It’ll be fine once it’s all up,” my best friend assured me, but for once she was wrong. Wall after wall went up until finally I was surrounded by Faintly Spanked Caucasian Skintone. I was not pleased, but what could I do once I’d put up five gallons of paint? I lived with it, hoping it would grow on me.
Alas it never did. So finally I screwed up my courage and tried again, this time listening to no counsel but my own. “Sand” I decided was code for pink, so I steered away from anything related to the shore. I found a shade called Pony Tail and bought the requisite number of gallons before my bravado waned. As my little family pulled out of the driveway I cracked the seal on the first gallon and begun the task.
I painted for five hours the first night, enjoying being able to breathe through my nose even as my arms went all noodly. As soon as I stopped the congestion returned to bedevil me throughout the night and the next day until I took roller in hand and again attacked the walls. I painted for another long stretch of hours, sinking into a miserable funk of phlegm only after calling it quits. And on Sunday once again I earned relief from snot only by wielding the brush. It was the viral version of Speed.
As the weekend ends I’ve had to call a halt to the painting because the children are back home. I’ll need to wait ’til they’re gone or at least sleeping to continue; perhaps I’ll even be healthy when that day comes. I’m ever so pleased with Pony Tail, which is indeed a soothing neutral beige without the slightest hint of Sunburnt Cracker.
And most of all I’m pleased with this feeling, regardless of the congestion which even now threatens to drown me in snot. When I painted on the pink I was still married. My husband lurked in our room like a sad spirit, and I rolled on color I hoped would be neutral enough to ensure a quick sale of the property after the announcement that the marriage was over. It was angry, exhausting work. I felt terribly alone.
This time I am alone, and overjoyed to be alone. I am lucky enough to be caretaker to a house that is mine, that I didn’t have to sell, and which I can paint any color I see fit. Even if I have to paint in order not to drown on snot.
