In Bathrooms, bleh I whined about painting our bathrooms. Last night, I finally finished Jack’s.
More than ordinary procrastination had kept me from finishing his bathroom. I had some joint aches this weekend, especially in my left thumb and elbow. Among other things, I thought the painting I did on Thursday might have caused them. (Fishing ice out of drinking buckets with my bare hands probably didn’t help.)
Many years ago, in my early twenties, I had some sort of joint inflammation problem (never diagnosed, though I kept being tested for rheumatory arthritis) that was so bad I expected to be in a wheel chair by the time I was thirty. However, the worst of the symptoms went into remission in my mid-twenties, though not before I had a few minor surgeries to correct some problems.
The experience left me permanently inclined to pamper myself over any slight problem that has anything to do with my joints. If warmth, rest, mild exercise, and aspirin don’t solve the problem within a week, I make a doctor’s appointment.
Yesterday, I woke up and the pain was gone, so I decided to finish painting Jack’s bathroom. I felt a few twinges while I was doing it, took some aspirin last night, and feel fine this morning.
The bathroom looked good in the artificial light last night. After I look at it in daylight this morning, I will be able to clean up the painting equipment that is now wrapped in plastic and living in our refridgerator. This works to keep the equipment usable between sessions, but takes up an awful lot of room.