Galactic Destruction

Earth fought fiercely. I annihilated it all the same. The rings of Saturn were unable to defend their planet. I destroyed Pluto, too, just for old times’ sake. By the time I was done even the sun was gone. No trace of the Milky Way remained save for the ruined detritus scattered in the wake of each planet’s destruction.

Man. I kind of feel like I should have saved that opening for a Galactus comic or something. The less-epic reality is that Caitlin and I painted some rooms in our house over the long weekend and, in order to do so, I had to scrape off of the walls the sticker-esque planetary decals that our home’s prior owner had put up for their little kid. The removal process involved scraping the decals off in microscopic increments – by the end, all the force and friction had dulled and reshaped the edge of my scraper. The whole thing was a real pain in the ass. Well, not the ass so much as the thumb, which – for the record – has not yet regained full feeling since it’s heavy use in Friday’s seven-hour Planet Destruct-A-Thon. In case I’ve not made it clear enough: it wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience.

That about sums it up.
That about sums it up.

The painting got finished, though. The office, library, living room, and first floor hallway of our (relatively) new home all got a fresh splash of color.

As with any tedious physical task of duration, I found myself wondering – both as I was scraping away the planets and as I was painting – if this was the only thing that I had ever done in my entire life and if it was the only thing that I would do for the rest of it. Life outside of any monotonous task seems impossible, the task endless. And yet here I am, alive and no longer scraping or painting. Victorious. And actually, there is a surprising sense of victory here. I feel like I achieved something this weekend. Our house looks different, better. Then again, I also have essentially no memory of the last 48 hours seeing as they were all spent doing the same minute and mindless motion. So you win some, you lose some, I guess.

Most importantly: my feet are sore from all the standing on tip toe and what have you. Time to kick ’em up. I’m looking forward to not painting again for some time.

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