I have nothing noteworthy to tell you. I have nothing profound to say. I have nothing inspiring, nor inquisitive for you to ponder.
But polyurethane, yeah, that I have. And paint brushes, those I have. And toxic fumes that I am breathing in, oh yeah baby, I have those too.
What I also do not seem to have is time. Let's take yesterday for example. Woke up, cooked, coffee, laundry, sealed brick, swept, ran errands, and got home at 8:30. That was my day.
Fortunately, I think I can say that I only have about 15 of these types of days where I am combining taking care of normal things with working on the house. However, when broken down to the actual days that I get to work on it, those 15 days become 15 weeks rather quickly.
The funny thing is that I have the list of things to do in my head and while it may seem simple, it really is not. For instance, this is what is left on the house, right off the top of my head:
-Seal brick in living room and master bedroom with polyurethane coat
-Paint trim in living room
-Paint trim around half-bath, first floor
-Paint trim in hallway, second floor
-Touch up paint around lighting fixtures, both bedrooms
-Buy electrical box cover, install, and cover with plaster
-Install sweep on front door
-Touch up paint in master bathroom
-Paint interior doors
-Buy futon for guest bedroom/den
-Seal, and paint, windowsills in living room and master bedroom
-Buy new towels
-Buy new bedding
-Have deck built
-Buy custom shower door for master bathroom
Not a bad list right?
But, everything has to be done in a certain sequence for the most part. For instance, I cannot paint the trim in the living room before the brick is sealed with a polyurethane coat because the tape will not stick to the brick otherwise. Also, I cannot seal the brick in the master bedroom until there is some warmer weather because I need proper ventilation because you really are not supposed to breath in that shit.
And then of course there are the miles and miles of blue painter's tape that I have to use to make sure everything is as clean as possible. And then there is the clean up. And of course the time I have to wait while everything is drying.
And somewhere, I have to find the time to fit in the shit that I actually need to get done, like make meals, work out, and run normal errands like grocery shopping and buying new t-shirts.
And of course you are probably thinking, "blah blah blah cry me a fucking river."
It's true, right now, my life is pretty good. At a few months shy of my 32nd birthday, in the course of fourteen months, I have gone from having lost my home, the life I thought I had, and being $40,000 in debt as a result of the divorce, to owing a home (yes, the papers were signed two weeks ago), being almost debt free, and looking forward to the life I will have. Not too shabby right?
But that doesn't change the fact that I need a vacation. A real vacation. Preferably somewhere warm. With a beach. And cold beer. And scantily clad ladies who fan me with palm leaves. But I will take three out of four.