Happy Monday ya sassy freaks! (Me included) I hope you all had an awesome weekend and it wasn't too dripping hot in your neck of the woods! Pretty much what I told you we had on tap for the weekend was what ended up happening. Spackle, sand, paint, repeat.
Good Lord, where do I even start so I can make you feel better about your life? 😆
I'll start with this PSA: The following is not to throw someone under the bus but more to let parents of adult children know this crap isn't cool and will likely not be tolerated. (And if they are tolerating it, that's actually worse.) If you see any of yourself in what was done to me, don't start to question why you might hear from your kids less and less as we learn to set boundaries for our mental health. We'll start with Thursday which was the worst day so far. Like the day therapists and bail bondsmen should be on standby. We were not at our best (especially me given I've basically been working myself to the bone upstairs for 7 weeks) and tension was high by the evening. Then, as if on cue, my mom calls and gives a vague message to call her because she found something out I should know which is code for it's my dad's side and someone is sick, in hospital or dead. Instead of blowing her off because I couldn't mentally deal with that in that moment and we had so much to try to get done, I emailed her a little later and said it is not a good day in our household, emotions are high so I would not be pleasant on the phone right now. I didn't trust that my anger and frustration of the day wouldn't accidentally be projected onto her because I know one situation potentially hanging out there that my answer was going to be no and the chances of receiving lip back were high. I asked her to please email whatever it is so I can focus on it when I'm able to and I hope she understands. (Even ran it by my bestie to make sure there was no detectable tone first so that I could get back to the tasks at hand.) She writes back and does she even ASK me what's going on and are we okay? Nope. She gives me one of her friggin' mom guilt trips saying there was something else she wanted to talk to me about too but she "guesses it'll have to wait because she didn't really want to tell me that on email. "
Then she told me there was a health issue with my dad. (That was not the 'other thing' she didn't want to tell me in email.) Okay, well neither he, his wife, his mom or ANYONE in his family thought I should be notified when this happened almost two weeks ago just like it has been for 40 years. What reaction are you expecting from me? When I've asked him about crap like that I felt I should've been told about in the past, he shrugs his shoulders and that's the end of it. He doesn't care if I know, I'm not part of that family and you reminding me of it every time I'm left out of the loop does me zero favors mentally. So for all of you mothers out there, please don't do that bullcrap. Don't push your agenda or what you think should be done without thinking about how it might affect your kids regardless of their age. I eventually called her and didn't care what attitude happened to fall out of my pie hole since she was so passive aggressive and unempathetic in her response to me. In order for me to do that, I had to breathe through an anxiety attack and when I get incredibly anxious about a potential confrontation, my body reacts by shaking and making my teeth chatter. So I'm sitting there shaking like I'd just been in a near miss car accident with a semi because obviously whatever she 'didn't want to tell me' on email had to be way worse than the news she told me about dad which was bad enough, right? I finally call with my best fake it til I make it smile on my face to start the conversation pleasant. I asked what important thing she needed to tell me that she couldn't on email since it sounded dire...then it was "oh I just wanted to talk since it's been a while" and it was literally nothing. It was just her way to get me to call her. Moms...don't do that or else you're just going to reinforce that you may be crying wolf and then your kids will assume you're always lying or manipulating them to get what you want. I will not make that mistake again when I am in the mental place I was before giving in to that BS. Needless to say that was the cherry on the sh*t sundae that was Thursday to end my day.
(Lest anyone thinks I'm a monster, I prayed for my dad, wish him well and hope this scare is something that makes him put his health at the forefront as he's ignored it for a good 15+ years. If you have a better relationship than that with your parents, consider yourself lucky and don't judge those of us who have to mentally protect ourselves from further damage.)
Movin' on to Friday.
I had to fix a couple spots in the bathroom for the umpteenth time *ahem* and build up a few layers of skim coat to get the crap show that was the area under our crown molding even with the rest of the wall to be ready to paint. The Mr had to take the baseboards off in the office and here's a "funny" story. So you know how we replaced the baseboards with higher ones like a month ago to hide the damage on the wall where the cord wrangler ripped off top layers of drywall down to the paper? Well, when the Mr took the baseboards off, the caulk on top did the exact same thing to the area ABOVE the new baseboards.
Then I went to grab something out of my armoire and the doors were scraping. So did those bastards when they took our moving men sliders out shove it out of square??? I let out a scream that I'm pretty sure was heard in other galaxies and I had to repress my urge to day drink while the Mr was at the office. I let him know of this and he asked for details but my rage was so strong I denied said request and moved on to the next task which was skim coating the baseboard area to get it ready. Then I sanded so that any
joint compound that may have been not thoroughly dry on the thicker areas could dry overnight. The Mr taped stuff so that we could get ready for the big adventure on Saturday.
(At least later the Mr found there was a
furniture slider under one of the parts of the armoire so that's why it was out of square. So I guess that noise I let out will just be an incident report on an alien planet.)
The Mr started doing
edge work in the office and when he put the paint on what we know we painted the downstairs and hallway, it was darker- like way darker.
We thought maybe it was because it was old paint but only by two years and it was stored in the basement not in the garage so it shouldn't have been ruined or anything. We were freaking out because we were sure it would make the entire hallway/landing look like a cave. As we were freaking about now having to get new paint for the hallway the Mr suggested I slap some on the one wall in the hallway we knew we'd painted after the kitchen reno. Sure enough, it matched. Then I remembered I'd painted the rooms Moonlight (or Maneskin if you're Danish. I painted the bedrooms my favorite band before they even existed!) and not Driftwood. So one crisis averted after much flop sweating but not for long.
Whilst waiting for joint compound to dry on one side of the bathroom, I decided I would paint a swatch on the wall that was actually paint ready. See, we bought this paint in March 2020 just before lockdown. I wanted a navy blue but the Mr (who is color blind) wanted a different color of blue. It looked pretty and I thought it was something that might push me out of my comfort zone so I agreed and then two years of pandemic depression on top of regular depression set in so it never saw the light of day. Until Saturday. It had to be mixed for about 8 minutes and I rolled the first coat on and immediately panicked.
 |
(Note I've bitten my nails past the quick. Everything I try to do hurts because of it) |
I know it takes a few coats so I tried not to freak while I got to painting the office which was another nightmare. After the buffoons left Tuesday, we opened the windows for 30 minutes and then got to wiping down all surfaces including the walls with
Clorox wipes. The solution they used to weaken the ceiling stippling dripped everywhere down the walls. (So if you decide to have ceiling work like that done, be prepared to repaint every room they did it in!) We thought we got most of it and it wasn't visible anymore...until I put the first coat of paint on.

It looked like the
Amityville house inside where blood had dripped down the walls. It was horrifying and at this point I was just praying subsequent coats of paint were going to cover it and seal in whatever unapproved Prop 65 chemical was now coating our entire second floor. Then it was back to the bathroom where I put on two more coats on the swatch and while it eventually kind of looked like the sample, I hated it. I wanted to love it because it is a really pretty color but the satin finish just made a lightly textured wall from a smooth roller look heavily textured due to the dark color. (Remember we just paid to have parts of that room de-textured so texture is not something we want.) Something about the hue just did not sit right with me and if I might've been able to sand the wall perfectly smooth to get it to look better, I think it has to be eggshell in there for any dark color or we have to go back to light colors. But the Mr reminded me of two spots where the drywall got super effed up almost 20 years ago but are usually covered by towels. This would be the time to fix them properly since we now have a lot more knowledge than we did back then so I got to spackling...again.
It was very humid and the paint was taking forever to dry so it was a lot of hurry up and wait. I always forget how much manual labor painting is and how much pressure you have to apply since you can't overload the roller. By the end of the second coat in there, my body was waving the white flag. We were both hobbling messes and famished. I wish I'd remembered to wear my Polar watch but I know I burned well over 1000 calories given what I'd burned doing much less in the previous week.
Then Sunday came and by 8:30am a nice thunderstorm came in. I was sleeping on the couch for the 7th day (I can't take fumes of any kind) so it was nice to just listen to the storm for a little bit before the storm of paint that awaited me kicked in for the day. I had to use my
acupressure pillow if my legs were going to have any kind of mobility so I just moved it all up and down my legs for 10 minutes at a time in the worst parts then I just waited for the man to stir to signal another day in the trenches. Turns out he didn't get to sleep until around 3am and he got up about 10:30am. We ate an early lunch and yes, we had Raising Cane's because I could barely stand much less prepare anything and I knew we were going to burn it off so I wasn't going to be too hard on myself for it. The Mr picked up the new bathroom paint and while we both like it (though it is VERY dark but will be broken up with art) it is very evident that the insane amount of humidity we're having with rain all weekend that the paint will be dry next Tuesday. I'm talking compound is coming out in small chunks after putting the second coat on. I thought the end of my "fun" for Sunday was me getting to paint repair all the painters tape ripped off and didn't protect but nope. I won't go any further but if y'all heard a second noise that could be heard, I'm responsible after someone tried to help in the bathroom again. So I've declared myself done for the day and keeping my distance as I try to regulate my blood pressure. At this rate I will be on the couch for another week. I'll tell you this much, I don't care if it's not done next weekend- I'm not doing a SINGLE THING having to do with this sh*t next weekend. I'm mentally done in every possible way with absolutely horrible physical symptoms and something has to give.
Please tell me your weekend was better. I need to know other people aren't in paint and spackle purgatory.
====================
Follow me on
Bloglovin. Some posts may contain affiliate links that help keep this blog running at no cost to you. See the
Disclaimer page for more info.