This is the Final Weekend (before the house goes officially on the market) and I've been painting the bedroom the most beautiful shade of sky blue. I've wanted this bedroom painted for a few years, but The Husband was reluctant. He hates to move furniture, although I've helped with every piece, and moved some back by myself. He also has to do the highest part of our vaulted ceiling, because I cannot be trusted on any ladder high than 3 feet.
Considering my record for walking on level floors, you might understand why.
I am also personally coloring up in dramatic fashion, although (typically) my face, which is still damn sore, is showing the least. I've just begun to darken around my right eye, and swelling there is still noticeable. There's a smudge of brown on my jaw. It's just not the sort of thing people notice right off, and certainly won't garner much "oh, poor poor Sherri" from anybody.
The best bruises are hidden. The inside of my lip on the right side is a beautiful purple, and my GUMS are showing bruising (The Husband said he is shocked I didn't lose any teeth. I think years of braces have rooted my teeth in pretty doggone deep.) And that boob I said caught some of it? Dark blue, purple, and black, and no one but The Husband and the cats will ever see it. Even my still sore and tender knee is resisting dramatic coloring. It's sort of reddish, although if anything brushes it I jump. Aside from still being a little swollen and scraped, it looks just like my other knee.
Where's the sympathy ice cream in that? I'm being cheated!
There's also the whole whiplash thing. The joy of whiplash is that you don't feel it right away. Oh no, when your body sustains some sort of all over shock (such as crashing face first into a door -- which, btw, The Husband decided could be fixed instead of replaced. I hope he decides the same about me) it concentrates on the most grievous injuries first and shuts down everything else. Then, as the pain from the first class booboos fades, all the secondary and tertiary aches and ouches clamor for attention. Oh yes, the body nevr forgets. Pain is obviously the body's way of saying "Oh you is sooo stupid. Don't DO that EVER AGAIN."
If I could remember that, I'd probably be ok. Of course, that doesn't do a thing for gravity. I obviously need a personal mag-lev system. I also should buy stock in Aleve.