Contrary to the photos, it's Mourning Dove by Martha Stewart AND ONLY MOURNING DOVE, not four different colors that appear in shades of grays, greens, blues, or browns depending on where you're standing, what time it is, and how much you've had to drink. I woke up this morning, stumbled downstairs and went right into cardiac arrest when I saw how morose it looks right after sunrise and now I'm all panicky and FUHreaking out and I'm wondering, did I make a ginormous mistake? Yes? No? Just a smidgen too Italian motor scooter?
Argh. Man. Please please please say that you love it all over and then some, because I'd really rather not repaint. As in I'd rather light myself on fire. COMMENT THAT YOU LOVE IT.
You can even email me later, and tell me you love it some more. Because I held a paint roller over my head for twelve hours yesterday, and I have no feeling left in my shoulders. Or neck. Or back. Or hands. Or brain.
So tell me that it's good. That every single one of it's fourteen shades are perfect.
And while you're at it, ignore the horribly evil Linden doors. That aren't being replaced for five to ten business days.