We got home from work on Friday and decided to lay down on the couch for a minute. Just for a second........ 45 minutes later I bolt awake and realize I have 15 minutes before I meet my sister at the new house. I race around the house getting ready, kiss sleeping beauty goodbye and give the tour for the millionth time. I got a lot accomplished - I changed the light bulb in the upstairs.

Saturday was a different story, we got up early and went straight to the tile store. I ordered http://www.ceramictileintl.com/prodbrow/asp/detallelinea.asp?linea=Hearthstone&producto=WALL in Kindling and Ash. It was relatively cheap and I'm excited to get the tile work done. Then we went straight to the house.

I went to work sanding down what had been spackled and repairing drywall in the kitchen. What a God-Awful job. It took a long time to do with very little return. While I was doing that Rob was measuring the floor of the bathroom to finish putting down the plywood floor. When I was done with the drywall I was having a hard time finding something to do. I'm at a crazy impasse where I'm useless.

Rob suggested I move all the big trash/scraps out to the BBQ area to get it out of the house. I did that in 5 minutes and was right back in the useless place. He found a job for me to do and showed me how to drill the floor down in the bathroom and when I tried to do it, I didn't have the power to get the screws countersunk in the plywood. Then we couldn't get the screw (that I screwed up) out of the floor. He suggested I measure the kitchen and the thickness of the current floor. I felt so awful that I couldn't contribute to the work that was being done I stomped myself into the kitchen, sat on the floor and pouted for about an hour.

While I was acting like a 6 year old, Rob got more done in the bathroom and that room is so close to being done it's excruciating! He came to an impasse without the closet door so we did a run to the hardware store at the end of the day. Normally I HATE going to the hardware store but this was kind of fun. Rob took the Z, I followed in my car and we just got the door. None of that dazed wandering around the store looking for 1/2 inch copper pipe. We stuck the 18 inch door in the hatchback of the Z. Rob took it to the house while I got movies and dinner.

Asleep on the couch by 11 on a Saturday night, oh, the life I lead.


---> I forgot the mini saga of the bathroom closet door. The frame is 18 inches across. I thought we can just put a door on the thing. When you think about the logistics of a linen closet door that opens against the bathroom door, it just creates images of finger crushing and Rob thought the sliding door would be better. , I can't remember the name of the doors he wanted, it's the kind that has the slats in them and one hinge. I warmed up to the idea and we do the search for the 18 inch door. Of course they don't make them in 18 inches. When all is said and done, we go back to the start and get a regular door.

Sunday, we woke up and watched Empire strikes back while we were getting ready and waking up. Naturally, all day we were calling the shop vac our little R2 unit. It kind of looks like R2D2. Sunday is the day of rest in the bible, why didn't we listen to the bible. This was a rough rough day. I'm not sure where to start.

As you know, I have had some issues being useful this weekend so Rob gave me a big task (actually, I think it was busy work to get me out of his hair and to keep me from sulking). The intake for the HVAC is disgusting. Years and years of dog and cat hair, dust, dirt and ick. My job was to go into the basement and remove the nails from the sheet metal so we can get into the return and vacuums out the ick. The metal is above my head and it's important I don’t damage the ductwork because we want to nail it back up.

Rob gives me a light and fixes up a spot for me to plug it in and goes upstairs. The plug won't fit in the outlet so I take a good long look around the basement. There are extension cords snake-ing out from the crawlspace/silence of the lambs and connecting to the few outlets that work in the basement. I follow extension cords and spend some time with the cord in my hand looking perplexed. I find a light that works, there is an extension cord plugged into one side that is working!!!! AND there is an open outlet that my adaptor will fit into on the other side of the light. Yippee!!! I found a place, I plug it in and the light bulb goes out and my light doesn't go on.....



shit


I call for Rob and when he gets into the basement I explain what happened and he is not happy. I had blown something that turned off the condenser for the 3 dehumidifiers in the silence of the lambs. NONE of the other outlets in the basement work. I am feeling absolutely awful, tears are welling up in my eyes and I have to leave the room. It was the worst feeling, I was trying so hard to help and I felt like everything I touched broke. I did find the solution to the problem in the basement so I felt a little better. It was one of those solutions that was just too easy so I felt like I had a little victory.

Now I had the lighting, a stool to stand on, my hammer, wonder bar and screwdriver. The nail heads were very thin and flush with the metal so I had to pry the screwdriver under the nail and loosen it to make room for the bar to fit between the nail and metal. Keep in mind I'm essentially pulling nails out of the ceiling with the light shining on me, making my back sweeeeat. It is a horrible job, horrible horrible horrible horrible. I keep hitting my left knuckle with the hammer and it's purple/red. I can't get the nails out and then...... somebody had the bring idea to put even longer nails with smaller heads in there. AND the heads are rusted so they pop! snap! off and I wind up hanging from pliers trying to get the nails out of the ceiling.

As you know, my day started off pretty poorly and Saturday was not a great day either, this was a great mix for coming up with creative profanity while doing this project. Unbeknown to me, Rob is almost directly above me working on the bathroom. He hears my crazed sputtering of profanity and he is very very amused by this.

After a while I decide that I need some food and a better tool for the job. I run out to get 2 sandwiches, gator aide, water and a mini wonder bar and somehow that turns into a 1 1/2 hour ordeal. I wait 30 minutes for lunchmeat on bread only to find out (when I get home) that they screwed it all up. Rob said I walked in the door, muttering and when I saw they didn't give me my order I walked right tout the door. He's a smart man, he stood there and didn't say a word to me. Even "I love you honey" would have set me off. The pin was pulled and it was just a matter of time before the grenade went off. I got to the restaurant and pulled a Dennis Pepe, they gave me my $ back and I returned to the house feeling a little better.

After lunch I go back to my horrible horrible horrible horrible job. In a matter of seconds I am even more frustrated then I was before lunch. My new tool didn't work so I was required to throw it across the basement, go pick it up and then throw it again. When that didn't satisfy me I took my hammer and hit the wood shelves as hard as I could 4 or 5 times while yelling "rats, oh darn it, shucks" (that's sarcasm, folks). I tried to calm myself down and sprayed the hose on my face. Man, I bet I was a SIGHT.

Rob must have felt the anger and he did the best thing he could have done.... he walked down the stairs to the basement and said "I'm ready to call it a day, how 'bout you?" . I was ready to quit the minute I started. I firmly believe, pulling those nails out was penance and I have been forgiven for any sin I have ever committed because I have been in HELL, I tell you!!!

Apparently, he was having a rough day as well. Even though my tantrum amused him, he was having some issues framing in the new door that we bought and was battling drywall.