Yes, I missed a day. But it was a lovely way to miss. And I'm not ashamed of it whatsoever. I'm sorta proud actually. Especially since I spent half the evening composing this post in my head.
I was only supposed to work Monday until 1230. I didn't leave until 1:00, and I still had to pack, and stop at the grocery store, and then stop at the gas station, and then the major highway between here and my destination was dead stopped for a major repaving project. Which it needs, but is still a pain in the backside.
I had intended to be at the house for the project by 130. Which in my constant state of perpetual late-ness would have truly ended up being about 230. I didn't leave my own town until 230. I didn't arrive until 3. I was kinda freaking out. I didn't know if anything was waiting on me, or if anyone was waiting on me, or if we would absofreakinglutely run out of time all because I couldn't friggin be on time for once in my life.
My mom likes to say that I'll probably be late for my own wedding. Truth be told, i can perty much guarantee that I will be. Unless I have the amazing and wonderful friends who love me in spite of my perpetual lateness remove every timepiece in a 2 mile radius of wherever I am at the moment and even then still LIE to me about what the actual time is. Which is actually what I am currently planning to request if I ever get married. Otherwise, we can all sleep easy tonight in the absolute assurance that I WILL in fact be late for my own wedding. Having explained all that, I would like to note that usually I, myself, like to state that I'll probably be late for my own funeral. Which I think is infinitely funnier because after I'm dead, how in gawd's name am I going to make myself late??? THAT blame totally falls on someone else's shoulders.
Sarah, one of my newer friends, and daughter of a very dear friend of mine, was very relaxed about my incredible lateness. She had taped the whole room where we were starting and had started edging and painting a bit. Her 5 younger siblings were already gone with their mom so that 1) we'd have a quiet calm house to paint in, 2) no one could accidentally or not-so-accidentally walk through paint somehow and 3) because her mom wanted nothing whatsoever to do with the accomplishing of this task.
I lamented my lateness, she assuaged my guilt, I changed into painting clothes and we charged into painting the living room. A lovely shade of white called Candlelight over top of prior white. If you've never painted white on white, it can be really difficult to tell where you've painted and where you haven't. Sarah pointed out 3/4 of the way around the sunroom on the 2nd day that one of the best ways to tell where you've painted is to look for paint on the blue edging tape. Totally did not occur to me before that. I can be oblivious that way sometimes.
We got a pretty good rhythm going Sarah and I. Finished out one wall, switched jobs. Finished another wall, I moved to the hallway. Finished the dining room wall, finished the edging. Not all necessarily in this exact order, but it felt like a good rhythm. We took breaks when we wanted. I consumed only a single cupcake*, typically a sustenance which I require at 30-45 minute intervals while painting. I drank 2 bottles of Coke in the duration of the evening, a feat unseen by my stomach in a number of weeks. A painful feat that I am still paying for today.
Her dad, one of the greatest men I've ever personally known, brought us home pizza. We had a lot of pizza. Which turned out perfect because another pair of friends showed up to just visit. They are moving to Texas (which, in my mind is said in Spanish and therefore would look like Tejhas, but I thought might confuse you) on Sunday nite sometime. After the pizza was consumed and kiddos were settled the men went to work dismantling the sunroom so we could paint and the women took care of tucking away the pizza and proceeded to have an absolutely lovely evening sharing a highly amusing movie night and ice cream together. We watched New In Town, the movie I reviewed in my last post. I laughed, again, just as hard as I laughed the first 4 times I watched it. Oh goodness i lovelovelove that movie. And a little over halfway through the visiting friend mentioned that she could hear her hubby upstairs laughing and that was a very good sign because usually you can't even get him to talk.
And I thought, This is the perfect way to spend a day. I was able to bless one friend. I was able to put a number of new blocks into my foundation of friendship with Sarah. I was able to chat and laugh with a visiting friend who I don't see all that often. I was blessed by the friendships and the 'little people' that I got to spend time with. a little usefulness, a little food, and a lotta laughter and fun.
My Cup Runneth Over.
* I did, however, eat 2 cupcakes through the night. Which left a handy 5. And there are 5 kids in that house. So I left the rest for them to eat at mom's discretion. Clearly I do not require any more cupcakes in my diet. Or coke. But, sleep? yes, sleep.