Here's what you get for making that "extra effort"

As regular readers will know, my golden years have thus far been primarily devoted to an ill-advised bathroom reno. Ill-advised because I had no clue what I was doing. On the other hand, I'm kinda pleased I embarked on this journey. You get to do some problem-solving, and you get the satisfaction of a job well done... or at least done well enough that everything works. We're on the last few laps now. A little bit of painting and trim work. Yesteray I was going to paint the second bathroom window. Unlike the first, it was covered with a '60s vintage aluminum storm window. If you're acquainted with that marvel of modernity, the aluminum storm window, you'll know they made it impossible to clean the inside of the storm or the outside of the inside window, unless you did a whole lot of dis-assembly first. That's the kinda shit I'm inclined to let slide. So I'm about to apply a coat of bright white semi-gloss to the window frame, and I'm looking at what appears to be a science experiment gone wrong and abandoned years ago. There was cobwebs and cocoons and dead spiders in there. No way could I live with myself if I didn't take the time for that dis-assembly and do the job right. It was worth it. But here's the thing. The Farm Manager checks it out and announces, "that window was disgusting for the last ten years and you fixed it in an afternoon. There's a couple other windows I'd like to point out to you." I was afraid that would happen.