Why Painters Drink

I know why painters drink beer. After painting nearly every surface of our *vacation* house I need a beer, a prayer, or something. The worst part is I am not finished. I or I should say we just stopped. For a while. Joe my Wonderful Husband does his share by far. He has a job. Somebody in this marriage has to go to work every day. I do have a retirement salary. I attempt to make Joe's life easier any way I can. That is my pleasure as I love him dearly. But back to the painting. I picked out Behr Opal Cream for the main living spaces. It is the color of real butter. Pale pale yellow. It's warm and comforting. All my old and found objects look good in the room against it. Last week I painted two walls before I realized they were not as yellow as the rest. More white. Really? I thought. The Home Depot had mixed the correct color in the wrong base. At that juncture I went with the flow. Close enough I say. I do not drink beer. I do pray. No one except for me and Joe will ever know. Joe knows cause I told him ninety times. Olive Out