I’m working on my she-shed and there’s still much to complete.
My body hurts already from my head down to my feet.
I have grandiose ideas. My husband says that all the time.
I’ll begin the transformation, but first I have to prime.
The boring tasks I’d rather skip but I must do the doing.
Between you and me, this shed needs serious renewing.
I’m going to paint the ceiling to match a clear blue sky.
I’ll add some clouds and birds. Boy that ceiling’s waaay up high.
I’m using our new ladder and I spilled some paint on it.
I’ll try to clean it off before someone throws a fit.
What? Clean the paint pan, brush and roller? That doesn’t sound like fun.
Why can’t I just go back to Lowes and buy myself new ones?
I have sky blue on my clothes. The can said wash with soap and water.
The paint is still on everything. I guess the water should be hotter.
If you tell someone I said this, I’m afraid I must deny it.
In fact it might behoove me to aggressively defy it.
It takes a lot of work to turn a shed into a she.
And when it’s said and done, it also takes a lot of money.