Bob Ross is a friggin' liar...

There is no such thing as The Joy of Painting. Trust me. I did it for the past two days.

Of course, my painting was much different than Mr. Ross' panting.

My girlfriend and I have been prepping our new room over at her parent's house. Due to some financial troubles, we need to abandon our current domicile and move in with her mother and father. This is not an excitement for me; I have lived on my own for the last four years with all kinds of space to myself. Now, I am going to be confined to one little room with barely enough space to bend over and fart. But we have to do what we have to do.

I just feel bad for my cat. He won't be able to run around the house because of the pit bull/Godzilla hybrid they have. I just hope that the dog gets along with him. My biggest fear is to come home one day and find fur and cat blood all over the house.

But I digress. Yesterday we began to spackle and paint the room because hot damn if it didn't need it. We went back there again today to put the second coat up. Tomorrow consists of going to the fabric store and buying enough fabric to cover one wall, painting the stone around the base of the other three walls, touching up the moulding around the door, sweeping and vacuuming the carpet, and setting up the bed.

And all of this cannot happen until after 6 PM.

I guess it won't be so bad. I have had to wake up at 5:30 AM to get to work today and tomorrow, but Thursday I get to sleep in a little, so we can work later tomorrow night if need be. But, I still need to pack the rest of my shit in the apartment so we can move all of the furniture out on Sunday.

Moving sucks. If you don't have to do it, don't do it.

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