What kind of fool am I?

I will tell you.

I am the kind of fool who gets a wild hair in the middle of priming a wall and decides to get the heat gun out to see just what's under all that white painted trim.

I am the kind of fool who then sees how beautiful the wood underneath is all that paint and realizes, with a kind of sinking feeling in her gut, that she will not be able to rest until every scrap of trim in the room is stripped of said white paint.

I am THAT kind of fool.