At Death’s Door

I was out in my lift by six am and painted until three with only a twenty minute lunch break.  If I even attempt to explain how tired and sore I feel I would not even come close to the reality of the situation.  My hands hurt, my feel hurt, my shoulders hurt and my hair contains paint.  It was a good day though and the progress was substantial.   We will have to rent it one more time for the front of the house and to put up the gutters.  I have my chair, my soda and my Tylenol.   All is well.