I painted. I painted that crown molding and baseboard that I have been meaning to paint for oh, about a year I guess.
I moved furniture. I moved my couch, which is too fucking big for my house, to another part of my fairly small living room. I need to buy a smaller couch, but for some reason they are a bitch to find. It faces the fireplace now. I need to buy a mantle. Or hang some art, probably something metal that can handle the heat.
There are chairs in front of the window now, which can easily be moved. Not like the couch that was there previously. I can put a Christmas tree there. In fact, I think I will.
I think at some point everyone who celebrates Christmas wants to have a place where they can put their tree in front of their window so that when the lights are turned on one can see it from outside. It feels welcoming, I guess. It's really hard to explain it, or at least I can't fucking explain it, but it's true. Why? Because I said so.
I always wanted one of those gigantic Christmas trees. The ones that are 12 feet high and go right up to the ceiling. I have no idea why I want one, but at some point I do. But I have never had the space for it. I still don't have the space for it. Now while my ceilings are high enough, the actual size of the room is not big enough to handle a tree of this caliber. Not unless I want to have my entire living room occupied by a big fucking tree.
But I do have the space now to put it in front of the window. With white lights and silver ornaments. And it will be a real tree. It will not be one of those fake ass plastic pieces of shit that are apparently all the rage these days. Who buys those? Fucking communists, that's who. And people who hate Santa. Do you think Santa has a fake Christmas tree? Fuck no he doesn't.