When your face is an inch away from the toilet seat you cannot remember the last time you cleaned and for a longer period of time than the time in college when you crawled into a friend's dorm room, puked in their toilet, used up all the toilet paper to clean up where you missed, crawled out to get a new roll, crawled in to put new roll on roller, finished throwing up, completed a cleaning Heloise would be proud of after ten margaritas, contemplated sleeping in the tub because it was close by and offered more room than the floor but then crawled out into the dorm room and passed out on the floor hours before your friends ever got back from their wild night to pick you up and put you in bed, you start to amuse yourself in different ways. I found myself thinking of how I would word an article on painting a half bath:

"When you have small children, make sure they are asleep before painting anything, otherwise they will bang on the door for hours, insisting they CAN PAINT TOO!"

"If you haven't showered in a couple days, you will want to before painting a very small room that requires you to do a downward dog and triple lutz to paint behind the pedestal sink. Otherwise, your nose will be right in your armpit the entire time, and although deodorant and Febreeze take care of most body odor, the lights that make you look ten years older on a good day will heat up the room to brick oven temperatures and really get those sweat glands exuding a scent that makes you think of plumber's butt."

"If you have textured walls, and you blue-taped the ceiling and baseboards for neat lines, it is inevitable that when you pull them off, the texture will have allowed the paint to bleed a little in every inch of the room except behind the toilet, where you can't see it unless you have a wild time in college such that I did."