Anyway...so, I'm lying awake on my bed this afternoon, listening to the sounds of Devil Kitty try to excavate her way under the door and into my private bedroom sanctuary and I'm thinking to myself, "Self. You REALLY need to get some things done around here (the hut) when you're feeling better." And, as I'm lying there staring upward at nothing in particular, my bedroom ceiling comes sharply into view. It looks like this:My mind begins to whirl into action, recalling painting projects and home improvement projects that have been on my "TODO" list (pronounced "tew doo" LOL) for almost two years...sprucing up my bedroom has only been one of the small projects on this list.
And as I stared at my ceiling with the eyes of a hawk...minus some clarity that MS has robbed me of...I was suddenly reminded of my bedroom ceiling's texture. Yes, my home was built in the 1980's and the ceilings are covered with that dreaded POPCORN texture effect! I am quite certain drywall experts who built homes in the 80's are now probably retired and laughing their arses off how they duped most of America into having this sometimes-laden-with-asbestos-crap sprayed on the interiors of their homes...SOMEBODY should be getting a hearty chuckle out of this because I'm NOT laughing.
The sound of tiny kitty power tools with jackhammer features was faintly distracting me in the background as I lay on my bed, trying to take a nap, and pondered just how difficult painting my bedroom ceiling would be. It would be much more difficult hiring contractors to come in and REMOVE the stuff, since certified asbestos removers would be needed IF my ceilings contained the lung-cancer-producing compound...and even if my movie-theater-popcorn-ceiling DIDN'T have asbestos in it, there would still be a mess of Katrina proportions having it removed.
As the grossly-sugared-lacking-real-flavor "TUMS" settled onto the lining of my Novantrone-stricken gut, I closed my eyes and shut out all thoughts of painting my bedroom ceiling. I took great pleasure in turning over on my side to ignore the potential looming task above me, belched a noxious, acidic "TUMS" gas from my stomach, much like a baby being positioned to burp, and reminded myself I WAS ON VACATION.
The ceiling would wait...besides, it could be another YEAR before I lay down in the middle of the day in my bedroom to nap again!...I AM ON VACATION...