Friday, July 22, 2016

There's no use crying over spilled paint, but that's never stopped me...

Happy Friday Everyone!

Is everyone else as happy as I am that it's Friday?  Woof, this was a log rough week.  Well, that's not entirely fair...the beginning of the week was wonderful, and yesterday was a train wreck.  After a looooooooong emotional day at work, I decided I'd try to get a jump start on painting the ceilings before Kurt got there.  But you know me, and you know what they say about good intentions.....I swear, I was only home alone for ten minutes--max!  And yet:

Has anyone ever dumped most of a gallon of paint on the floor?  What the hell are you supposed to do?!  How do you even begin to clean it up?! In the end, I still don't know, and I ended up wearing as much paint as there was on the floor.  Let me set the scene for you: there I am, in the dining room, on my hand and knees.  I'm literally dripping with paint, from my elbows to my hands, and my knees to my feet.  It's in my hair, it's on my face (because apparently when I'm in a panic I touch my face-who knew?). It's also on three walls, all the baseboards, the dryer, an end table (which was covered with tool, tape, and whatnot's).   In the process of trying to clean it up, I also ended up covering the kitchen, because, ya know, that's where the paper towels, bucket, and water were.

I thought I was doing an okay job, not of cleaning-that was a lost cause, but I was at least keeping it together!  Poor Kurt, what a scene he walked in on.  I felt so bad for making a mess, and being a mess that of course, I ended up sobbing in a puddle of paint.  You know me, and I assume you can absolutely imagine exactly what this looked like.

Here's the after picture.  This is after three rolls of paper towels, a few buckets of water, one king size bed sheet, and a whole lot of scrubbing.  Oh, and I'd been hosed down in the driveway before taking this picture.  Woof.  

So, "It's kind of a good news bad news situation here"  (that's how I greeted Kurt, but it still seems appropriate today).  

The bad news is, the floor is still a mess.  We couldn't get all of the paint up, and I'm not 100% sure yet how we will.  I'm totally open to suggestions on that one.  That means that the ceilings didn't get painted last night, so we're not staining the floors tonight.  There are other things we can work on, but this is a frustrating setback.  

The good news is, (and this is going to get mushy so go ahead and skip this part Mom) Kurt could not have handled this situation any better than he did.  I mean, damn.  He was calm, and kind, and there was no yelling, or jokes, or any number of things that could've made me feel worse.  Someone should give that guy an award for being able to calm me down--because you all know that is no easy feat.  It makes my eyes all misty just thinking about it.  He's a keeper for sure! 

Today, I feel a little silly, and my hands and legs still have some paint on them.  But I'm feeling fine about the whole thing.  Kurt made a really good point, that if this was going to happen, there really couldn't have been a better time.  We didn't just lay down new carpet, the floors weren't just refinished, and this situation is totally workable.  And hey, if I only dump one can of paint out of 20, then really, that's not terrible, right?

Someday, this will probably make for a really funny story.  That day probably isn't today, but I'm looking forward the day when we can laugh about this, and my hands aren't all covered in paint!


Tracy Lawrence - If The Good Die Young

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