Never Again

This past weekend, I had a wild hair.

I decided I (ME, ME, ME) should clean and paint the inside of the garage.  The garage has always been Scott's job.  And let's just say... it need some girly attention because:

*  Scott is a keeper of all things.

*  I am a thrower.

*  Scott is a cleaner arounder.

*  I am a move-things-out-and-get-under.

*  He is a sweeper.

*  I am a vacuumer.

*  He uses the hose.

*  I use my hands and knees (with knee pads -- that floor is hard on my old body).

*  He is a hunter (gun), fisher, ice-fisher, hunter (bow), golfer, biker, 4-wheeler, etc., which means he has a LOT of stuff.

BUT why did I choose the HOTTEST days of the year to be stuck in a garage where NO breeze reaches me and temps have exceeded 100 degrees in there?

WHY did I think it would take an evening when in reality it has taken F.O.U.R. days!!!!!????!!!!

Because I'm PSYCHO that's why.

I hate the garage. 

I never want to see it again.

I don't care if it looks 1 million times better or that I could eat off the floor.

All I'll ever remember about this darn garage is that I've never been dirtier, hotter, or stinkier. (I'm pretty sure I was attracting flies.)  I've had a minimum of TWO showers a day.  Minimum.

I've seen a dead mouse.  Scott found it (thank God)... But, of course, he had to show me.  Thanks a lot.

I've lifted so much heavy stuff, I'll probably be seeing my chiropractor for days on end.

And so help me... if one piece of dirt enters that garage or one thing is not put back in it's designated place, I just might lose it!  (Consider that your warning honey.)

Thankfully, the end is in sight.  

I think.

I hope.

I pray.

P.S.  I didn't even have this on my summer-to-do list.  I can't even cross it off.  Maybe, just maybe, I'll cross five other things off instead.  Ugh.

P.S.S.  I did have one bright moment (that I actually wouldn't trade for the world) during this whole mess of a thing.  I asked Nathan to bring me my ice tea that was sitting on the counter (poured, iced, and sugared).  I waited and waited.  Then I waited some more.  I thought he forgot, so I hollered in at him and he yelled back something like, "Hold on a minute... I'm still getting it."  OK.  10 minutes later, he came out with two coke floats... one for me and one for him.  It was the bestest!  Nothing like enjoying a coke float with your favorite buddy in the whole entire world!!!!