I think I tend to lean on the perfectionistic side.
But when I paint, well.
Let's just say it's M.E.S.S.Y.
My slippers are now splashed with yellow from this:
It's a happy yellow, though. So I don't think I mind.
They kinda match the slippers Miss Party put a hole in from carrying around so much when I'm gone.
Have I mentioned she doesn't like it when I'm gone?
In preparation for the upcoming art show, I've made a schedule. (pronounce like the British version here: shheduuahl.) It's very helpful.
Especially when you look at it.
And stick to it.
Except when you can't stick to it because SOMEone forgot their track practice bag at home. ahem.
Or an offer comes in on your mom's house and you have to go sign papers. (!!!)
I guess it's o.k.
Or it's a fabulous day and you are starving and Miss Party has been staring you down for a walk. So you compromise and take a sandwich to the dog park and let her sniff all the grass she wants while you eat and read a book.
Then it's o.k. But I think I shheduuahled that.
Or at least I should have.
I did NOT, however, shheduahl a flare up with Colitis.
Nor did I shheduahl a boatload of meds to take to combat said flare-up, that tend to make me a tiny bit jittery and be up from 4:30 am on today.
Except that, you do get a lot done on your shheduahl.
Sorry, it's fun to say. It makes me think of The Narrator in Winnie the Pooh.
Needless to say, I'm getting some painting done.