Okay, so doing all that stuff, yesterday? Yeah, I'm paying the price today.

In my defense, it doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it would have a week ago. I have to flip those stupid boards though and paint the bottoms. I just can't bring myself to put my beautifully cracklepainted shelving up if I haven't got some paint on the bottom. (Why not paint on the bottom? Heck, I've got paint everywhere else.)

It didn't help that my husband was in a snotty mood and said things like,"Why don't you get off your ass and do A?" I have been feeling guilty about not doing everything lickety-split with the busted rib, so I mopped the floor, I reorganized the pantry shelf, sewed curtains, and unpacked a box of dishes, when I should have said,"You're only working about 15 minutes of overtime nightly, why don't you give me a fucking break, butthead?" I let him know that this morning however, when he thought he'd snuggle up and get friendly about how I am watching his kids from the crack of dawn and entertaining them, making him dinner on a nightly basis around his schedule, making sure he's got clean clothes, and keeping track of our website contract, not to mention the budget, the shopping, and taking care of the neighbor's horses. This doesn't include all the sewing I'm obligated to do between now and when hell freezes over, either. Yeesh.

You know how much fun it is to watch a 6'7" man backpedal on a unicycle? It was kind of like that. I'm still ticked at him, so I think I'll get him to do the damned pots and put down a base coat tonight on the rest of the kitchen.

Yes, Dorothy, I am a Wicked Witch and I don't melt in water, honey, as one can see from my dishpan hands.