I have decided painting should be an Olympic sport. Up the ladder, down the ladder, reach, roll, wipe up drips, dab, dab dab, repeat. Get a rythm going. You have to be in shape to compete.
Which I am not.
Thus I may stay in bed all day tomorrow. It may be possible I could roll off the bed and crawl to the shower without making any bending or twisting motion that causes me to actually move my upper body. Or my lower body. Or my eyelashes. My Olympic career may be over before it started. The soreness of muscles formerly disguised as cellulite has waylaid my training. I am not dedicated enough to my sport to do ANY more practice.
One day, I’ll have forgotten the pain and will repeat all this again. Someone remind me when I mention painting again. K?