It has gotten really crusty here so they are blowing it out. I had to sit on managements head for weeks to get anything moving. Even the black on the metal stair needs a new coat as it's all stripped. With my junk show of cheap 60's rococo and other worthless furniture, I need all the help I can get in this place and always new and white walls are just the key. Covering all 4 chandeliers was not fun for me I was a real crank and procrastinator all weekend. New York law: your landlord is required to repaint every 3 years.
I hate and do not own any clutter. I destroy all paper and correspondence I don't need. This temporary pile of clutter I can't even look at - I can't stand exposed junk. In looking at it I can't decide which smell I love better: A sharpie pen or poppers? You know things have come together for you in life when you chuck the Cartier watch next to the scotch tape.
Nothing like a reflective glitter 'love' protest sign next to a randomly thrown power drill.
4 comments:
The last time I was in rehab they allowed me to keep my stash of fresh Sharpies and a sketch pad. By day 20 I was jonesing so bad i actually started to inhale my markers, not really getting a buzz, but convincing my fukt up self that I was. Now, whenever I smell a Sharpie I have to stop and check my surroundings cause I tend to freak out and imagine I'm still stuck in rehab.
Good times, Walt, good times...
It looks lovely, I cannot abide clutter on window ledges or to see exposed wires I go insane.
thanks i'm living off a hot plate next to my bed it's miserable. WIRES! Awful!
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