Painting the kitchen floor for a reason.

You know me. As much as I would love to be self-starting and self-motivating, the reality is that most of the time I won’t take action unless there’s some kind of external factor prompting me, usually something to do with boys.

I broke up with Leroy. I loved him quite a lot considering we only just met, but he is a big liar and a fake so we are done with each other. In the kind of reactive move that I like, I immediately booked appointments with my hairdresser, dentist and Botox doctor. Then I called for the Honcho, but he was out, as we used to say in the 1970s. Then I texted Blondie and told him he could come over on Friday. Then I realised that his flat is probably a lot more swank than mine, so I painted the kitchen floor.

kitchen floor

While I was in the middle of painting the floor, a friend of mine who is himself a bit prone to weight gain, called round and told me that I was looking the sexiest he has ever seen me. This made me well happy as I am 25 pounds heavier than I should be and I was feeling deeply unattractive and kind of embarrassed. So the fact that he would say that and ogle my tits even though I was just wearing an old t shirt and my fat girl jeans fairly cheered me up. Made me feel a bit more optimistic that Blondie isn’t going to run screaming when he comes round tomorrow.

You will note that I did not move the furniture before painting the floor, because fuck that, I just painted round it. Nor did I bother painting behind the door, because fuck that as well. 1 Home point anyway.

Next time it needs doing, I am thinking of throwing some glitter in with the paint. I feel that it would give the kitchen more personality.

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