Around 10:30 this morning, after a rousing session of playing trains with the kids, Mike and I were heading downstairs to begin some random piddling about. You know, he was going to cut the grass (of course) and I was going to wander around and avoid cleaning the kitchen floors.
I casually asked if we still had the leftover paint from the kitchen or if it had been destroyed in the flood. (Lots of old paint cans were ruined and had to be disposed of after the flood.)
“What are you going to paint?” he asked.
“I was thinking of painting that other wall in the kitchen,” I answered.
When we painted the kitchen we followed the schematic that the prior owners had used as far as which walls to paint. This particular wall morphs between being a kitchen wall and a hallway wall. I have been thinking for a few months that maybe I would prefer it painted to match the kitchen.
He checked the garage, found the paint cans, brought in the supplies, put down the drop cloth, and moved the furniture out of the way.
So 12 minutes after posing the question, I was painting.
I couldn’t help but think while I was painting. It’s what I do. Think.
I had been thinking about painting for a few months, but had never gotten around to looking for the paint. Knowing that we had the paint would have moved the painting project up in my mind to “sometime in the near future.”
Can you imagine how productive I would be if I acted so quickly all the time? I may just have to think about that for awhile…