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Monday, July 18, 2005


I don't how painting compares to running in terms of calories spent, but I do believe it's a damn hard workout. Maybe I'm rollering away like a maniac (I do manage to get paint in my hair and all over my clothes), but when I'm painting, I'm sweating and breathing hard. Plus, you have to contort your body into some of those strange positions -- where one foot is on a step ladder and another is on a window sill and you've got the paint balanced carefully on the step ladder while you reach to get that one spot in a top corner of a closet that no one will ever see because junk will pile up there anyway -- and I always end up feeling sore the next day along my sides and in my arms and shoulders. There have been some weeks during our remodeling project that the palm of my hand has actually been sore from holding paintbrushes, scrapers, or sanders.

It's tough work and I can't help but think there's a better way to do it, like with elves or night gnomes. Can't they be hired or rented out for this kind of labor? Surely there must be some kind of indentured servant who can scrape wallpaper, putty, and sand just as well as I can; maybe the zoo loans trained monkeys for projects such as this.

I need someone to do it, aside from me of course, because after an afternoon of painting I really don't feel like running. I just want to take a shower, get into bed and watch re-runs of Seinfeld. I especially want to get into bed today though because we just bought a new bed, and I have to tell you, it's wonderful.

I don't know about you, but until yesterday I had managed twenty-seven years of my life without ever having to go matress shopping, and I hope it's another twenty-seven years before I have to do it again. All the mattresses I've slept on in the past years have either been hand-me-downs or have been purchased second hand, so I've never been educated on "spring coil technology" (which sounds strangely similiar to the sort of language they use to sell me things at the make up counter) and I had never before thought that mattress retail would be so similiar to buying a used car. However, despite the lack of plastic flags lining the perimeter, the experience of mattress shopping was almost identical to that of buying a car, so be prepared to negotiate. Otherwise, you're being robbed! You may feel out of place or uncomfortable walking into a store, laying down on some beds and feeling as though you are entitled to discuss prices, but if you too need a new mattress, this is what you will find yourself doing. I never thought I would have to argue over prices while lying in bed (because I never really aspired to be a hooker); but sure enough, I found myself in a strangely compromising position: haggling with the salesperson while stretched out on a mattres that felt like heaven.

Be strong with your resolve to get a good price because that Pillow Top will do a lot of talking itself, and your body may not be so eager to bargain. Thankfully, I enjoy a good argument and I whittled one manager down to a point where I think she was ready to include her first born child with the mattress, box spring, and frame, but she still wasn't willing to drop the price as low as I needed her to go. In the end, we did find what we were looking for, for the price we wanted, and we even got to bring it home right away -- a big selling point for me; I'm inpatient and when I decide I want something, I want to get my grubby little hands on it that day. So, we got it home and set it up, and immediately I was intimidated by the size. It was way bigger in our room than it was on the mattress showroom floor.

I'm a small person, so when I tell you that the top of the mattress comes up to my waist, it really doesn't mean much, but when I had to take a little run and hop to get into bed, I feared a bit for my life. What would happen if I rolled off and cracked my head open? Would my fiance even notice I was lying on the floor bleeding to death? Probably not because the new mattress is supposed to reduce the amount of distubance you get from your sleeping partner, so in reality if I fell off, cracked my head open, and screamed bloody murder as I drifted off into death, he would most likely be so sound asleep that he'd never hear my wails.

However, the new bed was so comfy last night that my fears quickly evaporated in a wonderful night's sleep on what felt like a cloud. And ever since I was forced to leave that nest this morning, I've been longing to return. So now that I've finished paiting, and my muscles ache from the exertion, I am seriously thinking of taking a hot bath, having a cup of tea, and getting back into that new bed. But I have resolved to be good runner this week -- totally committed to the effort, so I suppose I'll delay all those wonderful rewards until a little later.

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