Can't post...must...paint...
Sorry the blog's getting a bit spotty again lately. The new house has been taking up all my time and attention lately, and is starting to remind me strongly of this:
(Note: if you've never seen this classic '80s film, you have missed out. Go out immediately and rent "The Money Pit". The above referenced scene alone is worth it.) Heck, the landlord even said "two weeks" when we first signed up for this ride.
Between the continued difficulty in getting professional drywallers to show up and the little extra difficulties that have popped up here and there with plumbing and so on, we're still not living in the new place yet. And so I insisted to the landlord that I be allowed to help in any way that I can.
Hoo boy.
My three-day Labor Day weekend was spent doing just that - labor. Painting. Installing electrical outlets. Painting. Scrubbing. Painting. Moving in what I can. And - well, you know. Painting.
I have to admit, I'm a little frayed around the edges right about now. For the past week I've gotten up in the morning and either (1) gone straight to the new house to work; or (2) gone to actual work, picked up Duncan from school, and gone to the new house to work. Then home to make dinner, clean up after dinner, return to house, work until too tired to continue, go to bed and start again. I'm bruised all over, I'm sore all over, I smell paint everywhere I go, and I've burst into random tears on three different occasions in a week simply because...I'm tired. But the house is going to be great!
Sometimes, though, the little victories can make all the difference. Today, when I got into my car after work, the radio crackled to life. The radio has not worked in the entire year that I've owned the car. Sure, it has no AC, a duct-taped bumper, and a loose window I have to guide in with one hand as I roll it up with the other, but it may as well have been a Mercedes as I cruised over to the new house with the tunes cranked up. It was dead again an hour later, but the moment was there. Then when I arrived at the new house, a note wedged into the door by the local gas company let me know I have HOT WATER. And when I went inside? A real live drywaller, repairing the ceiling! And he'll be back TOMORROW TOO!
Folks, you just can't buy euphoria like that. Not legally, anyway.
Sorry the blog's getting a bit spotty again lately. The new house has been taking up all my time and attention lately, and is starting to remind me strongly of this:
(Note: if you've never seen this classic '80s film, you have missed out. Go out immediately and rent "The Money Pit". The above referenced scene alone is worth it.) Heck, the landlord even said "two weeks" when we first signed up for this ride.
Between the continued difficulty in getting professional drywallers to show up and the little extra difficulties that have popped up here and there with plumbing and so on, we're still not living in the new place yet. And so I insisted to the landlord that I be allowed to help in any way that I can.
Hoo boy.
My three-day Labor Day weekend was spent doing just that - labor. Painting. Installing electrical outlets. Painting. Scrubbing. Painting. Moving in what I can. And - well, you know. Painting.
I have to admit, I'm a little frayed around the edges right about now. For the past week I've gotten up in the morning and either (1) gone straight to the new house to work; or (2) gone to actual work, picked up Duncan from school, and gone to the new house to work. Then home to make dinner, clean up after dinner, return to house, work until too tired to continue, go to bed and start again. I'm bruised all over, I'm sore all over, I smell paint everywhere I go, and I've burst into random tears on three different occasions in a week simply because...I'm tired. But the house is going to be great!
Sometimes, though, the little victories can make all the difference. Today, when I got into my car after work, the radio crackled to life. The radio has not worked in the entire year that I've owned the car. Sure, it has no AC, a duct-taped bumper, and a loose window I have to guide in with one hand as I roll it up with the other, but it may as well have been a Mercedes as I cruised over to the new house with the tunes cranked up. It was dead again an hour later, but the moment was there. Then when I arrived at the new house, a note wedged into the door by the local gas company let me know I have HOT WATER. And when I went inside? A real live drywaller, repairing the ceiling! And he'll be back TOMORROW TOO!
Folks, you just can't buy euphoria like that. Not legally, anyway.
2 comments:
You forgot linen.
*facesmack*
Blast it all! Now the drapes won't match.
Post a Comment