Today I removed dozens of little sticky stars from the ceiling of the main bedroom of the house we are renovating. I believe they are meant to glow in the dark and the former tenants probably peered up at them through the smoke haze (we know there was a lot of smoke haze because it left the walls all covered in a thin veneer of nicotine-stained grime that I spent EIGHT HOURS SCRUBBING OFF) and imagined themselves in an open field somewhere, peering at the sparkly stars in space. I wonder why they didn't, you know, GO INTO THE BACK YARD AND LOOK AT SOME REAL STARS and leave my freaking future ceiling alone so I didn't have to waste my time scraping their stupid little glowy stars off when I could have been using a wrecking bar to demolish the kitchen instead.
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