I stood in the spray paint aisle of Ace Hardware (known to my husband as Sunroc) debating the virtues of various colors. It was the second paint aisle I had visited in the last half hour. I was hoping this one had a more butternutty yellow than the lemon I already had, or a more pumpkiny orange than the safety cone orange the last aisle offered. Paint colors are just beyond me lately. If I was hoity-toity, I would hire a Personal Paint Color Selector and pay her to matchy-matchy my life.
No fooling.
Then Carla comes in and picks out a can in 1.2 seconds flat. No waffling, no comparing, no wishing she had brought someone with her to discuss shades with. Pure instinct and decision.
I found myself confessing to her the fact that I cannot seem to make a solid decision about anything, and haven't been able to for months. About the 8 samples of paint I currently have all over my living room walls. About the trip to Arizona that I pulled the kids out of school for, packed up the truck, hooked up the trailer, and at the last minute couldn't leave. About the nasty old rusty chairs I have sitting in my garage that will soon become the vibrant chairs I will bring out for a late night dessert party under the plum tree lit up with tea lights.
As soon as I can decide on paint colors.
I thought I'd take it slow, and picked up one can of pink on the way home from the re-affirming bra-shopping trip to the mall. The one that I came home from without the new bra, but with a reassuring secret shared by a friend.
And here are the next few days of my life... the yellow is too bright, they don't have any more green apple, and the lime is going back, but any color is better than rusty metal.
Atleast that's what I keep telling myself.
1 comments:
One of each! Each chair a different color. Then all you have to decide is which one you're feeling like that day. And your lawn will look beautifully colorful---like flowers. Do a French Blue one, too.
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