I’ve had two spider bites in my life. They were both in the last year, both after mowing, and both on a butt cheek. Is that too much information? I can’t discuss anything else until I confess that because DANG IT KINDA HURTS IF I LEAN LEFTISH AND THAT’S REAL DISTRACTINGLIKE, OWWW.
No, I don’t think it was a black widow. (It’d just be too ironic and awful if it was the bite of a recluse.) This one looks just like the last ugly bite and that was painful and weird for weeks but I didn’t get sick or die, it just hurt to sit and to try on maid of honor dresses if I wasn’t careful, so it’s mostly an okay precedent.
I’m busy painting everything. Chairs, chests, frames, and the stuff I haven’t painted yet or gotten around to, I envision in various colors that I might try just as soon as I get a chance to get my hands on them.
I just left my favorite paint store. It’s across town and has a bulldog named Bones who hangs out with you while you shop. I had a burning need for orange paint. And lime green. And a fiery red. And more sunflower yellow, because I used up all of mine, and that’s a nice problem. Warm colors. Hot colors. Passionate, statement, can’t miss me colors. Colors I do not wear.
A friend had a need for a milky chocolate and a sea blue/green. Pretty colors. I love it all. I like getting filthy and spattered and to have the colorful streaks in my hair and paint spots on my legs as reminders of the current color palette. I’m a happy, unapologetic mess when I look like that.
And the house looks like a crayon box is exploding everywhere, more and more every day.
But… eh. That’s not a bad thing.
I’d add cushions to those, but it’s a bit difficult to get inspired to do that when you can’t sit down anyway, thanks, stupidspider.
Actually it’s a staple gun issue. It’s too infuriating to even describe.
They’ll be cuter with their seats on. And, you know, functional.