I need to touch up the paint in our home. You know, in order to entice people to buy the place. The buyer had given me the paint colors for the interior but the lazy ass accidentally forgot to write down the exterior color. I visited the man three times and he kept promising the painter would come over that day. I gave up and asked for the paint chips so I can match it. Why oh why did I not think of that before? I had the color in less than 5 minutes.
Off I go to find the paint store. There is an odd thing about Houston. The streets change names for no reason at all. They just do. Ask Sam Houston why they do something so idiotic creative because I. don't. know! I needed the FM 1960 side of the road. Only the paint store was no where to be found. After several phone calls to my man and several plug ins on my trusty GPS it was no where to be found.
I have a false conviction deep faith in my GPS. I really love it. Because I get lost so easier, and you know, it finds things. So, I plugged in a new location. Long story short, a 23 minute drive turned into a 60+ minute nightmare that led me downtown only to find the store abandoned. As in we will tell you there is a store on your GPS because there is a little camera on your GPS where secret government workers laugh at your frustration. I got lost took my time and headed back home.
I think I'll try the highway 6 side of 1960. Sure they say it's 1960, but remember the asses civil workers mess with your mind the streets like that. Huh, what's that? The paint store behind a bar, where a mormon mama would never look, on the WRONG side of the bleepity bleep street.
By this time I had to pee use the ladies room and change a little boys poopy thing jewels before I tried to buy paint. I love Chevron in the middle of the day because all the construction workers watch you because you are the only female in the entire area. At least I had the ladies room to myself.
Oh yeah, paint. So, after begging for them to please give me the paint color because you have been through hell waiting patiently for the paint they agree to pour it from 5 gallon buckets for you. This of course takes some time while you chase an almost 2 year old while yet more construction workers watch. Because that's where construction workers hang out in the middle of the day. At Chevron and paint stores.
$80 bleepity bleep dollars, 3 1/2 hours later I have my paint. And now I have no desire to even look at it. I'm afraid to touch it because it seems to have bad mojo circling around it.
This house had better sell because of the paint!