I just finished painting the second bedroom. If someone even mentions something related to paint, I’m going to snap. Now, at a very, very conservative estimate, my wife did 70% of the painting. I did all the sanding, which was an awful, awful job. But she did the vast majority of the painting. And it’s times like these that I wonder what the heck I did before I met her. She has a nearly unfathomable ability to just work on something until it’s finished, no matter how much it sucks, or how tired she is. I can not imagine how long it would take me to get my condo ready to sell if she weren’t doing the bulk of the work, and gently nudging me to do the rest.
For example, last night, after moving stuff out of here to my grandmother’s so the place looks bigger, cooking dinner for some friends (Who were my friends first, by the way) who are moving to the West coast, and packing for her four day work retreat, she painted all the edges in the second bedroom so that I could just do the big wall sections today. I fell asleep while she was still working.
And now I need to reheat the lasagna she made for dinner last night so I can get back to my novel, which I haven’t touched since Friday. And wouldn’t be touching again at all if my wife hadn’t done so much work on the condo.
So, for all of you single people out there who have the means to obtain a significant other even half as great as mine, I highly recommend that you do so. You won’t regret it.