Okay, So This Is Getting Old Now. Seriously.
I am not having a very glamorous week. I guess you've guessed that.
First, I went to yoga at a senior center near my mother's house and there were people in their seventies in better shape than I'm in.
Then, there is this sock I'm knitting for my dad and it's going, very, very badly. I've had to frog it back at least three times and it's knit on size 0 needles so that's a lot of knitting gone to waste. I like to knit and that's not a problem, but this one sock is taking me so long that I am afraid I won't get my other knitting done before the holidays. Not to mention that the yarn is kind of... not pretty.
Then, there was my exposure as a complete Math Illiterate on Monday night.
THEN, yesterday, the painter we are having spiff up our house to get it ready to sell? He, um... well, he fired me.
You know how I love to paint, right? I mean, I really do. It's like mowing the lawn to me--once it's done, you can look at your work and see that it's good work and then hopefully, you don't have to paint MORE. It's kind of meditative, you know?
So when the painter arrived at my house, I was... well, okay, I admit it, I was painting. It's my house! I'm allowed! And plus, it's not like I can hire him to paint everything that needs to be painted, you know? I mean, when we moved into this house, we got bids for painting the inside and the bids ranged from $9,000 to $14,000! And now we need some exterior work done, too. So, anyway, I was painting the entryway and the painter, whose name is Tony, knocked on the door. I answered, roller in hand.
He cocked his head at me and smiled a huge smile. "What are you doing?" Obviously he knew.
So, then I showed him some of the things that needed to be done --paint choices I'd made that now needed to be, um, well, neutralized. I showed him where I fell off the ladder and spilled paint on the hardwood floor. I showed him the bad trim work in the bathroom that needed to be replaced. I showed him where I had spot-painted in my bedroom but had used the wrong color of white and so now the bedroom walls were all, um, spotted. I showed him the outside of the house and then I showed him what I'd been painting --really just touching up -- the hallway going up the stairs. He said, "You should use a matte finish on this wall because that eggshell shows every imperfection in the wall in this light."
I thought I WAS using a matte finish.
Nope. But the FIRST time I painted it? I'd used a matte finish. So now the whole thing needed to be painted AGAIN. Because I'd bought the wrong dang paint.
And then I showed him the big spot at the top of the staircase that I couldn't reach, even with my long-handled roller. We'd lived for seven years with it painted in this two-tone color combination. And you know, after the whole ladder incident, I didn't really want to get the ladder out and try standing on it on the STAIRS, you know what I mean?
So, Tony took all this in and then he said, "You know? Maybe you should just retire from painting... I'm sure you've got other things that are more important. You take care of those and let someone else take care of the painting."
Dude, I know when I've been fired for incompetence. I also realize, now that I write all this down, that I deserved it.
It's been quite the week.
First, I went to yoga at a senior center near my mother's house and there were people in their seventies in better shape than I'm in.
Then, there is this sock I'm knitting for my dad and it's going, very, very badly. I've had to frog it back at least three times and it's knit on size 0 needles so that's a lot of knitting gone to waste. I like to knit and that's not a problem, but this one sock is taking me so long that I am afraid I won't get my other knitting done before the holidays. Not to mention that the yarn is kind of... not pretty.
Then, there was my exposure as a complete Math Illiterate on Monday night.
THEN, yesterday, the painter we are having spiff up our house to get it ready to sell? He, um... well, he fired me.
You know how I love to paint, right? I mean, I really do. It's like mowing the lawn to me--once it's done, you can look at your work and see that it's good work and then hopefully, you don't have to paint MORE. It's kind of meditative, you know?
So when the painter arrived at my house, I was... well, okay, I admit it, I was painting. It's my house! I'm allowed! And plus, it's not like I can hire him to paint everything that needs to be painted, you know? I mean, when we moved into this house, we got bids for painting the inside and the bids ranged from $9,000 to $14,000! And now we need some exterior work done, too. So, anyway, I was painting the entryway and the painter, whose name is Tony, knocked on the door. I answered, roller in hand.
He cocked his head at me and smiled a huge smile. "What are you doing?" Obviously he knew.
So, then I showed him some of the things that needed to be done --paint choices I'd made that now needed to be, um, well, neutralized. I showed him where I fell off the ladder and spilled paint on the hardwood floor. I showed him the bad trim work in the bathroom that needed to be replaced. I showed him where I had spot-painted in my bedroom but had used the wrong color of white and so now the bedroom walls were all, um, spotted. I showed him the outside of the house and then I showed him what I'd been painting --really just touching up -- the hallway going up the stairs. He said, "You should use a matte finish on this wall because that eggshell shows every imperfection in the wall in this light."
I thought I WAS using a matte finish.
Nope. But the FIRST time I painted it? I'd used a matte finish. So now the whole thing needed to be painted AGAIN. Because I'd bought the wrong dang paint.
And then I showed him the big spot at the top of the staircase that I couldn't reach, even with my long-handled roller. We'd lived for seven years with it painted in this two-tone color combination. And you know, after the whole ladder incident, I didn't really want to get the ladder out and try standing on it on the STAIRS, you know what I mean?
So, Tony took all this in and then he said, "You know? Maybe you should just retire from painting... I'm sure you've got other things that are more important. You take care of those and let someone else take care of the painting."
Dude, I know when I've been fired for incompetence. I also realize, now that I write all this down, that I deserved it.
It's been quite the week.
Comments
I have so many daubs on the ceiling from my "edging" job that I might just have to repaint the ceilings in every room to match the walls. That's scary when my older daughter's room is this incredibly bright shade of aquamarine. Also, there's the huge aquamarine stain on her carpet from where I stepped in the paint pan, then onto the canvas and it soaked through...I did this twice.
Consider yourself lucky! Sit down with a cup of coffee and good book while he masterfully transforms your home into perfection.
Oh well - at least you didn't turn 50 today (like me). The good part dh bought me lots of yarn and a lace book and lace blockers - almost worth it.