My Week On The Fringe

I spent this past week, my fourth week of unemployment, working on another project. Yosemite Sandizing my walls.

Seven years ago I painted half of the walls in my house chocolate brown, Benjamin Moore’s Middlebury Brown to be exact; and I painted the other half of my walls Yosemite Sand (creamy beige) and I’ve regretted it ever since. I’ve wished all of my walls were Yosemite Sand for about two-thousand five hundred and fifty-five days, give or take a day. So this past week, I did it. I painted for five straight days…

Two coats of Kilz primer:

And two coats of Yosemite Sand.

And one raging headache because I forgot to air out the house and breathed paint fumes for like five solid days. By the way, you can definitely exceed six ibuprofen in a twenty-four hour period; you won’t drop dead or anything.

*Disclaimer: I’m not a doctor but I play one on the internet, and I treat my body like a crash-test dummy when I’m in pain so if you want to test the boundaries of ibuprofen, you are totally on your own.

While painting this week and staying high on paint fumes, I also finished the fifth season of Fringe (Netflix via Apple TV), because it didn’t deserve my undivided attention. Oh-my-gawd wasn’t that the most awful season? No wonder it was cancelled! I liked the the series at first because it was very X-Filesey. Then it took a turn from sorta-Sci-Fi to super-Sci-Fi, and it lost me… I don’t like Sci-Fi. In fact I only hung in there with Fringe because my hands were covered in paint most of the time, or I couldn’t find the Apple TV remote (really Apple, would it kill you to make a bigger remote?), the DVR was empty and I can’t stand talk shows or soap operas. And maybe, just maybe, OLIVIA WOULD CHANGE HER HAIRSTYLE!

And it’s a good thing I don’t like Sci-Fi, and watch it on a regular basis because it makes me weird.

This morning when I woke up I joined Hubs in the living room, and two kids were making out, all hot and heavy, in a car on the TV….

Me: What are you watching?

Hubs: I don’t know I just turned it on… Something on Showtime.

Me: Well, it’s probably not Sci-Fi. If it was a Sci-Fi then somebody would knock on the car window and kill them. Then their faces would melt off.

Hubs: Okay. Good to know. Why do I need to know that?

Me: Well. I’m just sayin. I don’t know. Why?

I’m running out of projects. I’ve made eighty-three attempts to find a J.O.B., and nothing-zero-nada. If this was Sci-Fi, I’d find another timeline, an alternate universe or I’d look through the window into the future.

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