Working hard, yet hardly working

Since returning to my parents' house I have found myself with time on my hands. Luckily for me, my parents have a list about a mile long of things to be done at/on/for their house.

One of those tasks is painting the house.

My parents have discussed house color possibilities since we moved in. Five years ago. Finally this September, after I returned, my mom and I went to Lowe's to pick up paint.

Unfortunately for them, my dad is back at work and my mom is physically unable to take care of the task. Luckily for them, their daughter is unemployed, living at home, and has a lot of time on her hands.

Don't get me wrong here. I have not done all of the work on the house. My dad has scraped and painted. My best friend and her mom have pitched in with priming and painting. I've just been there for the whole ride. I have white primer and Warm Buff (the paint color of choice) splatter all over my arms and legs, and I can now wield a paint brush or roller with an expert's hand.

The project is maybe 50% complete. Three sides of the house have been scraped, primed and painted. There is still the front left, as well as a second coat for it all. Pretty exciting stuff.

And when I don't find myself painting the house, I find myself walking behind a lawn mower.

While I keep joking about how much free time I have, I have actually managed to stay quite busy, which I don't mind in the least. I'm not one for sitting around doing nothing all the time.

So it's a good thing I'm not.

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