do it yourself delusions

What day is it? I've lost track.

Supposedly I'm on vacation, but really it's the home upkeep kind of leave your day job for a few days and work like a dog to fix stuff that got waylaid by life happening vacation.

Ten days, three bedrooms. Gut, re-insulate, new drywall, prime & paint, new pergo-type floors.

Can it be done? I'll let you know sometime next week.

What I do know is that my husband and I have been together 24/7 since Friday afternoon, renovating bedrooms, and as we cruise into seventeen years of marriage next week, we haven't taken sharp implements to impale each other, we've made progress, of a sort, we've even laughed about it and found a productive rhythm most days. That is love and commitment. Or committed. Depends on who you ask at which point in the day.

I've got drywall compound dust in places it's only acceptable to talk about in strip clubs or with a gynecologist. Can I even begin to tell you how much I fucking hate putting up and taping sheetrock? So help me, If I ever have to install new sheetrock again it's going up with that liquid nails stuff and I'm forgoing all of the screws and spackling. And hiring some damn professionals to do the taping while I'm at it. I'd rather reinsulate the attic. Which we did, last weekend, in 90 degree weather. That was a breeze compared to the drywall installation.

I'm taking about a ten minute break right now because I think I'm getting high on joint compound fumes. Which is not as fun as it sounds. Or it could be sleep deprivation.

I haven't listening to my voice messages, checked email or read the news since Friday morning. Being out of touch is not such a bad thing. If you've called me and expect an answer this week, you are bound to be disappointed. Send a text if it's urgent. I might answer that. If you tell me I need to. Maybe.

See you on the flip side of home improvement. If I survive.