Partly because of this:
and partly because of this:
but mostly on account of the daily sight of this
I am increasingly desperate for our bedroom (the master bedroom as it would be labelled if we were to have an open inspection) to be painted. I’m sure you can see the problem. And if you can’t, well, I really don’t mean to be rude, but your taste is in your arse, because that paintjob is shit.
Four years we’ve been living here and facing, as I have, the sight of that faux-Michelangelo, I think we should all be thankful that I have retained my good humour to the extent to that I have.
For a range of reasons, many of which will be obvious to the casual observer of our lives, and some of which will not, neither the mister nor I have got around to painting the room ourselves. Nor are we likely to in the foreseeable future. This is not laziness as other unfinished jobs or the unreplaced blown lightglobes are. We both like painting and have done a great deal of it in our lives. Let’s just label it the vicissitudes of life, shall we?
Anyhoo, I have made a momentous decision, and decided that we shall pay someone to do the painting for us. I have obtained a quote of around $1,600.
I know that I should obtain another quote or two, but between you and me and the internet, I couldn’t be fucked. It’s not obtaining the quote that’s the problem so much as the follow up phone calls and the ducking and weaving out of the way of the person or persons whose quote one has rejected.
So, I thought I’d ask you. Does $1,600 sound like a reasonable figure? It’s a largish room, and the quote includes the paint as well as the time to do some minor repairs to the ceiling. It is about $500 more than I was anticipating (and I thought I was being generous), but then, I still think that you can buy a coffee for $1.50 and a bush biscuit for five cents.