It started with the goal of making the bed every morning. Points for making it, and extra points for making it badly. You get extra points cuz the mission is always self-care, and it's good self-care not to try to be perfect.
So I got some good points with my front stoop today, staining the side of steps I didn't do yesterday. And I'm so sore. It's crazy how it saps me to get up and down and crawl around on steps, reaching to paint, or bending down to paint or scrape. There is still a fun element for me in painting, going back to the kid in me, but now it'd be nice if someone else would set everything up, arrange it all to be at convenient angles only, and do all the clean up afterwards. Except the shower. I'll retain responsibility for the shower. And I still want to get paint on my clothes and body.
Behold, mountain laurel of the blue-y green variety:
So now they've been "natural", gray (twice, I think), grayish blue (also twice?), and now this color. The front stoop itself is in need of repair, and the house needs painting (and repairs before painting), but this is something to prep for winter, forestall their rotting as rapidly.
I listened to podcasts while I did it. Oliver Sacks and Miranda July were the best parts of that.
My other goal for the weekend, besides using these two last warm days to do the steps, was to not think about work. And I've done pretty well at that. Tomorrow's the big deadline for my decision about whether I'm going to let them promote me. "No" is such an appealing and sort of fundamentally kick-ass answer. But I may not say no.
Not that work is like improv, where yes is notoriously the default, as in codependency and, I dunno, being a wife to an abuser.
Gads I'm sore. Happily I did the litter boxes and got the trash and recycling out before I did the steps. Now I just need to muster the energy to go get my dinner out of the microwave. Then later I'll need to go around and close the windows, cuz here comes autumn. Tonight. In just a few hours.