I had no intention of posting this video on my blog. It didn’t even occur to me. But then when I finished, I thought I kind of had to.
I made the video for my friends at work because my friends at work have had to listen to me whine, bitch and cry over painting walls for 2 years now. Seriously, they’ve had to listen to way more than you guys have.
I was super excited because I finally finished a whole room. Everything.
I still have work to do in all the rooms, except our bedroom.
- The bathroom needs new tile on the floor and the ceiling has to be repainted because it’s already spotty.
- The kitchen, well, let’s not talk about the kitchen. At least the counter tops aren’t lethal anymore.
- The living room is very nearly done, except the artwork is all wrong.
My bedroom though?
As of this weekend, my bedroom is finished.
Except I am me, so of course it isn’t finished.
So, here is the video I made for my friends at work:
You guys, I detailed that fucking room this weekend. I hand cleaned the floors and baseboards. I de-fuzzed the ceiling fan and cleaned out every groove of the box fan. Randy and I finished hanging the artwork and re-attached the curtain rod over the bed. It was mostly attached, but the middle bracket had fallen out, so they were saggy.
In all that time, did I notice even once that the goddamn doors hadn’t been painted yet?
How many times did my eyes just slide over that blue tape?
I had this moment of total contentment. Sure, maybe I did have to go back to my cubicle on Monday, but my bedroom is finished.
Then, I made this video.
That moment when I realized? I was half a heartbeat from having a full on, foot-stamping full body freak out.
It’s all good.
My bedroom can continue to be mostly done for another day or two. This isn’t a race. Everything is fine.
Goddammit so much.