In lieu of doing any proper work I have been trying to decide what colour to paint the interior wooden wall of my cabin.This is what happens in PMT week: I am completely robbed of my powers of concentration. Along with my patience (which admittedly is in low reserve on the best of days) and my ability to parallel park. And so, despite the fact I have nine blog posts to edit and a book synopsis to write, I have been avoiding anything that requires focus and instead have been staring at the various walls in my house and work cabin and thinking of ways to change them. Ways that could potentially be grounds for divorce. Things like, ripping off the pricey wallpaper that was only meticulously hung two years ago, but has “never looked quite right”. Things like, giving a really dark-coloured ceiling a try, because “we can always change it back.” It’s as though my PMT self knows no peril. I become fearless – reckless even! – suggesting decor tweaks to my husband-stroke-reluctant-decorator that are so fickle and also disruptive that my normal self would know not to tread anywhere near. Luckily the cabin wall I’m getting him to re-paint tomorrow is fairly uncontentious – it’s been a problem wall since finishing off the build and none of its previous finishes have worked. And I have found the perfect paint, in the perfect colour and, everything from here on in should be absolutely plain sailing…
