Non-romantic update on my ceiling and my chub
If you've ever heard me complain about anything, it may well have been my kitchen ceiling. It was aesthetically loathsome to me, so I made it even more so by ripping down a dropped ceiling, then taking a looong time to get a new one up. But, thanks to my brother Joe and other forces for good, it has been completed, and I painted it over the past week, and except for some manner of specialty switch plate cover I need to hunt and gather, it is a joy and a delicious slice of completion in my life. The pictures are dull, but I'm posting them anyway.
The true Before (the dropped ceiling in my kitchen as it was when we bought the house):
(long white acoustic tile set to make a low ceiling in a pink kitchen)
The Before I've been living with for the last four years (after I lost my mind on a trash day and ripped the ceiling out because it was killing me):
(mustard colored ceiling with patches of chipping paint and water stains, plus dangling cables and chains. Nice.)
(More of the unattractive same)
After (as of Saturday morning):
(pale yellow walls going up to a plain but clean white crown molding. Smooth, white expanse of ceiling. Decided absence of potentially lethal lead paint flakes)
On a different note, although my weight loss is much slower now, it continues, and apparently my body responded well to running up and down a ladder for two weeks. I lost about 7 pounds during that time period, and as of this morning I'm 238.8, or over 183 pounds down. My shoulder area is getting pokier, and my ass is getting, well, lower. I bought my first white bra today in about a million years, because I'm actually wearing shirts that are of a color that the black ones show through. And since I'm not Sandra Bernhardt/Madonna, and this isn't 1985, we're not going to that place anymore.
The true Before (the dropped ceiling in my kitchen as it was when we bought the house):
(long white acoustic tile set to make a low ceiling in a pink kitchen)
The Before I've been living with for the last four years (after I lost my mind on a trash day and ripped the ceiling out because it was killing me):
(mustard colored ceiling with patches of chipping paint and water stains, plus dangling cables and chains. Nice.)
(More of the unattractive same)
After (as of Saturday morning):
(pale yellow walls going up to a plain but clean white crown molding. Smooth, white expanse of ceiling. Decided absence of potentially lethal lead paint flakes)
On a different note, although my weight loss is much slower now, it continues, and apparently my body responded well to running up and down a ladder for two weeks. I lost about 7 pounds during that time period, and as of this morning I'm 238.8, or over 183 pounds down. My shoulder area is getting pokier, and my ass is getting, well, lower. I bought my first white bra today in about a million years, because I'm actually wearing shirts that are of a color that the black ones show through. And since I'm not Sandra Bernhardt/Madonna, and this isn't 1985, we're not going to that place anymore.