My Life as a Laborer

My friend Alicia was recently telling me that she and her husband wanted to get their garage painted. She said that her husband had found these "laborers" who were willing to work for a case of beer. I suggested that anyone willing to work for a case of beer, current friends excluded, could be a little bit questionable. I jokingly threw out an "I'll paint your garage."

Well, half-jokingly.

Well, not at all jokingly.

A couple of days after that conversation, Alicia called and said, "How serious were you about painting our garage? We'll pay you. Money, not beer." So I spent today with Alicia, working hard for my money. She and her husband watched at first. I taped. I edged. Then we all worked together to roll. Garages are big, and garage ceilings have lots of lights and plugs and garage door contraptions that you have to edge around while standing on a ladder with your head tilted back and your arm straight up. It was fairly exhausting. I mean, its 7:57 right now, and bedtime can't come fast enough.

But you know what? I enjoy painting. I would totally do it again next weekend. You know, if you have a room that needs painting.* Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

*Compensation negotiable. :)