There’s another good thing about painting a room: you have
to pull the furniture out to get behind it, and when you do you find all manner
of gunge that’s been accumulating there since the last time you painted it six
years ago. There are spiders and spiders’ webs, fluffy stuff of mysterious
origin, dust that’s turned a bit greasy over the years, husks of long-dead wood
lice that you didn’t even know had ever lived in such close proximity, and bits
of paper that you lost six years ago, and when you read what’s on them you don’t
remember why you ever saved them in the first place.
So you clean it up before you start painting. And then you
feel proud of yourself.
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