Oh, god, do I hurt. I spent my weekend painting my bathroom, and I’m dreading leaving for work this morning since I’ve been working all weekend.

I made a point of incorporating exaggerated poses in my painting all weekend — squeezing my abs when I reach, controlled squatting instead of sitting on the floor for lower trim painting, stuff like that — and I feel like I’ve mountain biked up a mountain. Every part of my body is in great, great pain.

But the bathroom’s beautiful! :D

I chose a blue called “Gypsy Caravan”, which is a stupid fucking name, but hey, that’s what it’s called. In reality, it’s a darker shade of Tiffany’s trademarked blue used on its boxes, or as you may more commonly know it, “Robin’s Egg Blue”. But I think it’s hilarious that the same colour that’s one on of the ritziest jeweller’s boxes in the world is a “gypsy caravan” colour. Right.

It’s dark, vibrant, yet sophisticated, thanks to my brilliant white accents everywhere. The look still needs to get pulled together, since the shelves were too tacky to load up with things, but I’m very pleased and proud of the great job I did. You’ll get pictures when I’m through with it all.

It’s a very dark spa look. It’s complicated choosing colours for bathrooms. I wanted more of a cave-like spa look, something dark and dramatic, yet feminine and clean. Less clutter. But there’s an aspect to painting bathrooms that most people overlook: How will the colour play off your skin? Will you look vibrant and healthy, or sickly and unwell? Choosing a blue or a green is a very risky business. I think my choice is working out. I’ll be happier after I get my bedroom paint on the wall and see how that makes me look. It’ll be a shade of green, which can do pretty bad things to the human body, so let’s hope that’s not the case. Feeling sexy in the bedroom’s too important to have a paint job go tainting you like a sicky.

This week is a three-day work week followed by I think a sleep until noon on Thursday, and another manic painting episode, but this time it’ll be my bedroom. No crouching around toilets required, which was easily the low-point of my Saturday night. Definitely not fun, toilet-crouching.

I can’t wait to get all the painting done so I can compfortably start inviting people in my home again. I think March is mainly for painting. I have a lot of work (and pain) ahead of me.

But if I can keep the exaggerated techniques in play, plus other exercise, I think losing 10 pounds this month will be child’s play, and my upper body will be getting in the kick-ass shape my lower body’s already headed for.

Which is good, since I now have a goal for getting in shape, something tangible to shoot for…

Skydiving in June with friends.

Scares the shit out of me, it does, but I’ve always wanted to skydive once so I can be that person at the party who goes, “Yeah, done it. Was cool.”

I need to lose 10 lbs to meet the weight requirements for skydiving, which I’m not worried about, but the whole thing freaks the hell out of me. And it’s a good thing I’m stairclimbing, since I imagine I’ll need strong, sturdy legs for the landing part of the equation.

It’ll be a massive step in proving things to myself. Like this weekend has been, painting and making my world mine again. It’s all about taking myself back one step at a time. Crafting an identity through real, calculated efforts.

Skydiving. Whew. Cool. :) That’s when I’ll truly know I’ve turned the page on my life. Now here’s three months I get to psych myself up for it. Eek!