I thought I loved painting. I was not specific enough with myself. I love living in a house that is painted the color I like. The actual painting of the house is no fun at all.
Priming is no fun because you make no progress. You roll the primer on, and it looks like you did almost nothing. Three coats later, after your arms cannot lift your water bottle to your lips without shaking, it looks like you maybe did one hasty coat of primer. It is all very unrewarding. Then you think, “Thank God, I am done priming! On to painting; yay!” but you realize the painting you are about to do is Ceiling paint.
Ceiling paint is the worst. Now you are rolling white paint over white paint and asking yourself “Is that white enough?” The roller is held over your head, your arms are burning like your boot camp instructor is shouting at you. “Must, make, the white, whiter” You tell yourself to just breath through it. You had a baby. You are tough as nails, you got this. This doesn’t hurt. This is fun. You are saving money.
Finally after the second coat, the pain fades, but the white isn’t white enough yet. Then the crazy sets in. You start daydreaming of things that would be just slightly more fun than painting the ceiling. My re-occurring daydream was being invited to my cat friend’s cat birthday party, for her second favorite cat, cat gifts were required, and all food was for cats, because it is a cat birthday. They need cat food, not people food. That cat birthday party would be way more fun than ceiling painting.
Anyways, if you have the budget to get your painting done for you, I recommend you do that. I am in pretty decent shape, and I was absolutely exhausted after I was done painting. On the plus side, people pay good money for cross fit, and boot camp. If you choose to paint, you can guilt free skip these activities. You will be sore in the morning, I promise.