I feel like a 50 year-old woman.

The title says it all. Today I worked for 11 straight hours. I am dead. My back is killing me and my nose is sunburnt. Today I was supposed to be in charge of the job site, when in actuality, this new kid Mark decided that because he was 24 and a painter, he would be in charge once I organized everything and got everyone to the job site with all the supplies and the plan. Granted, I didn't know exactly how we were going to go about painting the outside of a house that was over 30 feet in the air, and I definately was not going to be climbing the 32-foot ladders. So after I painted the trim and helped Mark and Scottie get all set up, I basically stood around staring up at them as they painted. Yes, I did real work, I cut the boards and I also got them all the supplies they needed as they needed them. I was also the brains of the operation - Dad told me the directions, so without me, they would have had no idea what to do. But I was so fed up with Mark and his tobacco-spitting, odorous, cocky self that by the time Scottie finally cracked and made us all go home (7:30), I was ready to strangle Mark. If you want more details on my ridiculous and over-worked day, just let me know. I have some funny stories that I am too tired to type. Thankfully I don't have to work construction again until Tuesday, and Kaylah's party is tomorrow night, then her grad on Friday night, and then various grad parties over the weekend. And Uncle Tom is here!!! And Annie-Deborah, which is super weird, because she has never been to Colorado and I haven't seen her in over a year. (She is Kaylah's friend from Tennessee that is here for 2 weeks for Kaylah's grad.) Ok, that is all for comments on my life tonight.