A little lipstick

A good friend gave me a card that said, “There’s nothing a little lipstick can’t fix.” I cut those words out and stuck them to my laptop – first, because they remind me of my friend, her approach to life and her sense of humor; also, because “a little lipstick” can apply to almost everything.

For the past several days, I’ve been restless. There are things I want to do, but they need more time or energy or money (or all three!) than I have at the moment. So, I sort and rearrange my piles of unfinished projects; harrumph my way through a few unsatisfying tasks; wash, rinse, and repeat. That’s a rotten way to spend an evening. It’s an even worse approach to an entire Saturday.

So, after two loads of laundry and scrubbing my stove top, I grabbed a can of leftover paint – the scallion (green) we used to paint the boys’ bedroom last year – and painted the ugly, scarred, fake wood cabinet in our back bathroom. That bathroom, as a whole, is a disaster. There was no moment when I feared I might regret acting on my whim. It truly couldn’t look worse than it did before.

I think I’m going to like the result. I know I liked giving my house a little lipstick – something to keep me from focusing on the bags under its eyes or its uneven skin tone. As a bonus, I feel like my crappy mood got a little lipstick, too. I find the act of painting very satisfying. It doesn’t take a lot of thought. It’s almost meditative, with its back and forth rhythm. And it provides a noticeable change I can see immediately.

Just like lipstick.


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