Evolution is Real!

From the blue semi painted store room piled high with boxes of various paraphernalia and memories of my grandmother to a bright orange study brimming with life and creativity. Perhaps a little dramatic but this is probably the reason. When it comes to revision, every other task or idea seems to balloon out of proportion to a point where it seems not only stupid but completely illogical not to complete the task. My last week has consisted of procrastination in various outlets including making a chicken pie and cleaning my house. The grandest of all these tasks was the sudden need to clean out the store in the garage and claim the room as my own. This post shall roughly follow the events prior to this post from my point of view.

Day One. The task seems like a tremendous effort and a gratuitous amount of time is required to complete the task.

                                                    This is what I was working with.

The clear out had begun. Trashing rubbish; clearing out wine bottles (119 as I counted); and moving boxes into the attic. The whole process was coming along nicely until disaster strikes. In the attic as I lift my foot it caught on a nail on a  plank causing me to stumble. In an effort to stabilise myself I place my foot on the floor of the attic. A good idea when done on the spur of the moment. A bad idea when more thought is applied as the floor is made of plaster board. I had one thought as my foot broke through the plaster board, "This is gonna hurt." As I fell, One leg through the floor, the other through the hole the ladder goes through, I had another realisation. With gravity pulling me downwards and a large, and as I would soon find out hard, wooden beam now moving upwards between my legs it was not too long before certain, shall we say important, organs were in mortal danger. Skipping the gory detail we shall move on. I sat for a moment without pain. Then a familiar dull ache and several sharps daggers of pain shot from various locations of my lower half, namely my legs. I struggled free from straddling the wooden beam and staggered over to the wooden floor board. I lie down and die. After a minute the pain dies down a little. I sit there a little bewildered and my voice a few tones higher than normal and begin to laugh in an insane manner. I'm not sure if this is how I deal with pain but it seemed to ease it greatly. Moving on, the day ended with 2 outcomes: Firstly, the room was cleared and ready to paint. Secondly, the increased likelihood I will not be having children.

The following day I announce on twitter I shall require a painting buddy. Jordan passed the requirements and we would commence on Wednesday. I decide the room needs a white undercoat which I crudely apply to the wall. Wednesday comes around and Jordan and I set out to Knox's on an adventure. I know I want orange paint because with a brown carpet and a fantastic eye for colour from my fashion sense I know orange will look wonderful (not knowing that it would only look wonderful if it wasn't horrifically patchy). After some startling realisations on prices of paint I buy an extortionate pot of paint for nearly £23. Arriving home we discover that the same colour my brother used was the one we had bought. He has 2 thirds of a pot of paint leftover from painting his room. SCORE! Free paint. My mighty luck has conquered again, This total amount of paint was exactly enough to paint the room, leave some left over in case we need to top up some areas and to cover Jordan's hands.

                    Our magnificent work. This looks rather nice, but you can't really see the awful patches here.

With the walls orange-ificated, my new task was to varnish the doors. I varnished them and the door saddle. Many times later that day my mind would decide to forget about the newly varnished door saddle and allow me to step on it. I finally got it varnished and dried without my shoe print in it. VOILA!

                                                    Two of the sexist doors now in existence

Finally the room is ready to unveil. With some old furniture and a new sexily varnished window ledge the room looks stunning. It is not complete however, but little progress is likely to occur in the next while, hence this blog post is being written now rather than later. Here are some photos of my new Store.

Thus the never ending evolution of this room continues. It has reached this wonderful stage where I can stay in here without a gas mask. I have spent an awful lot of time in here. The chair is really comfy. If anyone has anything they'd love to donate to Mrs Store they are free to. Perhaps one day in the future Mrs Store will be full of life and laughter with the birth of a Store party? However such a thing is unlikely and dangerous if it were to threaten the container in any way. My humble store is nothing compared to the almighty pimped out container. However I am excited at the prospect of this little room. It is my baby and I will nurture it and it will be awesome! Well that is all for now and it's goodbye from me currently typing this up from the STORE! (Yup! I even get Internet out here! WOOP!)Thanks for reading bbz!

P.S This room is miles better than anything Laurence Llewelyn Bowen could make...

                                                                BIG SEXY LAURENCE!

Yours lovingly
James