Walls don't paint themselves you know

A year and a half ago we remodeled the living room, dining room and hallway of our home. We went all out. I scraped that cottage cheese stuff off of the ceiling. I ripped up the carpet and hired a very nice and hard working Vietnamese man to refinish the beautiful hardwood floors. We put in new mouldings and painted. I can't tell you the name of the colors I put on the walls, but my wife can, and as good as the walls look, she looks even better and that is enough for me.

Anyhow, we did all this during spring break and were thusly pressed for time. By the end of that week we had everything done except for this one wall in the hallway. Seriously, all the other walls in this particular hallway are completely done, paint and mouldings, except for this one stinking wall. I don't even remember how I decided to leave this wall alone. I think it had something to do with being out of time, energy, money and the will to live after a weeklong remodeling blitzkrieg.

In the last eighteen months I can't count how many times I've walked by that wall and said to myself "Gee, I really should finish that this weekend". Good luck.

Well tonight, for the bizillionth time I looked at that wall, and it looked back. I swear it was mocking me.. . "So, you think you are actually going to finish me off do you? Who are you kidding?".

Really, my house hardly ever talks to me. But I always had the best of intentions of completing the task I started all those months ago but never did. And then in my despair, it gets worse. I realize that this stupid wall is actually a metaphor for my life, especially in the arena of unfinished things. I started recalling all those things I've been meaning to do:

Learn how to play the guitar. . well.

Finish filling out my grad school application.

Write that university paper for the educational journal.

Run for City Council.

Go to Italy.

Wander through the Grand Canyon.

Clean out the trunk of my car.

Learn the lyrics to 'Louie, Louie'.

You get the point. Surely, I can't be I destined to be like some people and be a great starter, but a terrible finisher (Ian, I love you man). Are all these incomplete projects merely a reflection of my true nature? Man, I hope not. Anybody else know what I'm talking about?

It is late. But not too late. I'm going to the garage and find my paint brush.

Be well all.