I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but last week both my boys were gone. The hubs out of the country and the boy at camp. I don't know if I mentioned how freakin' excited I was about this happy little turn of events. See, I can usually get rid of one or the other, but rarely (let's say this was the second time ever) do I get rid of the both at the same time. Oh - girl time bliss here I come, right? Well...no. Also, fuck no!
My girlish dreams of sleeping in late, watching as much Glee as I wanted, being alone for eight glorious days were dashed. Not only were they dashed, they were tossed to the ground and stomped upon by all the construction guys big, heavy, work boots!
Every single morning of my "alone" time was disrupted at 7:30 a.m. by my dogs barking their fool heads off as the damn workers started pouring into the yard. Putting a pillow over my head did nothing to stop the noise of pounding nails, screaming saws, and Spanish.
Also? Putting the pillow over my head did not stop the drywallers from pounding and sanding and taping and mudding and it also did not stop them from getting drywall mud all over everything within a 15 foot radius. Have ya tried scraping dry drywall mud off of a brick floor? Sucks ass!
Well, shit, since I'm up I might as well do something, right? You may be wondering what on earth I could possibly do with all these people in and out of my house all day. Well...I've already mentioned the friggin' drywall mud that I've been tryin' to scrape off the brick floor all week. Then there is the drywall dust from all the sanding...this shit does not just fall to the floor to be neatly swept up. This shit is everywhere! From the tops of pictures frames that are hanging on a wall in another room (where the door has been shut forever) to the top of everything that is hanging in my closet, where the door has also been shut anytime said workers are in the vicinity. I don't think my local (only) store stocks enough Pledge for this job. Also? Even though the drywall guys are done and the painting is finished? The floors have had to be vacuumed and mopped at least three times each just to get the grit off of them.
And then there are the two downstairs bedrooms which have been totally pretty much demolished because we had to put new windows in (even though the "old" windows are only a few years old) because the "old" windows weren't to code. Now these are rooms that get used frequently...the boy's bedroom and "my" room (sewing, napping, gettin' away from everyone...). So after the drywall is up and textured (have I mentioned how much I fuckin hate textured walls?) and painted - it's time to put the rooms back together. (specially the boys since he'll probably want a place to sleep when he gets home from camp)
I had bought an awesome ironish bed at IKEA when I took the daughter there to pop her cherry. Then I decided I needed a "new" antique dresser to replace the behemoth that was in there. So I get the bed put together (love that IKEA stuff goes together quick and relatively painlessly), got the mongo dresser emptied (lot's of shit for the thrift store!), pulled it into the hallway and put in the "new" dresser. Aaahhh...one room down, one to go.
I spent all day Saturday doin' the boy's room. He had given me permission to clean and rearrange it while he was gone. I'm thinkin' I'm gonna use the old headboard/footboard from "my" room for his bed since you can use it for either queen or full size. Had to pound it together twice since the first time I fuckin' put it together backwards. Drop the box spring in...SHIT...I knew queen were wider, didn't know that they are also a good eight inches longer. So let's take the damn bed apart again. Then let's find some screws and the drill and retro-fit the headboard to his original frame. Whew. Hang the new blinds, then start the furniture-moving. The boy's "desk" is a workshop workbench...six iron legs, six feet long, solid three-inch maple top. Draggin' that shit across the room? There are no words to describe the agony!
Finally finish around 12:30 a.m. and fall into bed and pretty much die.
So...yesterday...Sunday...I haven't been to church since before my road trip. I literally force myself outta bed and into the shower. Stop to get some coffee. Go to church. AND? My pastor's on vacation! WTF??? This should not be allowed. Well...okay, he should get a vacation but it should only be from Monday through Saturday. I got myself outta bed for this???
Make it through church (barely). Go out to breakfast with my girlfriend and her baby (I LOVE her baby). Get home and just have to make the boy's bed before I can nap. While making the boy's bed, everything from the dust ruffle up) I make an amazing discovery! I absolutely, without a doubt, cannot lift my arms above the shoulders. I am all in pain and almost crying while makin' the boy's bed. Finally finish...took a bit longer than usual. Drop onto my bed to watch some Glee and perhaps nap before the boy calls to be picked up. Then? After ten whole minutes on my bed? The boy calls to be picked up.
So...one boy home now, one due on Friday. Actually ready for them both to be home since I didn't really have any "me" time while they were gone anyway. And? They are bigger than me and can move heavy furniture.
For the next phase of the "home improvement project?" I am reserving the right to move to the Holiday Inn.