Day 25, Project 3: Opinions, Please?
By egelliaJohnny’s a pain in my butt.
I finished working out this morning, and was going to step in the shower, when I realized if I got in now I’d have to listen to church on the radio while I was in there. So I decided what the hell -- family plans or no family plans -- I can take twenty minutes and slap a coat of varnish on the door, and that way I can listen to something more interesting than sin-and-salvation while I shaved my legs.
The irony of the fact that I am working Puritanically in order to avoid religious services on a day I was supposed to rest -- a Sabbath day, no less -- does not escape me.
The first mistake I made was mentioning this little plan to Johnny.
“Don’t you remember what I told you to do?” he said to me.
Um, take a day off, dear? Open up a bottle of champagne, we’ll have mimosas?
“You’ve got to hang the door first and decide if you like it. If you varnish it first it’s going to be a pain in the hole to have to paint.”
Pain in the hole is right. Johnny has to always do everything the right way. It’s so annoying.
Fine. I thought we agreed we didn’t care if the paint peeled off the door after we sold the house and moved away, but fine. I am kind of eager to see it hanging, anyway, so now I‘ll get to see it three days early. Plus this way I don’t have to wash a brush.
The good news is I seem to be only missing one screw after all. I don’t know if Johnny found them, if they were there all along, or if the polter-goosed picked them up for me, but there you have it. And that is good news. Because I wouldn’t have been able to do this at all if I couldn’t put the doorknob on, and I was not going to Lowe’s this morning.
But now it’s hung, and I don’t know what to do. There’s a part of the woodwork right next to the closet that didn’t come quite clean when I was shtupping it for beers. It never bothered me before, but the ass-hat door hanging right there accentuates it , and I think the whole entryway now looks like a a bag of coke exploded and everybody ran.
But if I paint it, I think that will look stupid as well.
Johnny doesn’t have an opinion. And he apparently means that literally right now. He wants to live with it and look at it a while.
So what do you all think? I know you’re out there, so come on. Tell me, Kalamazoo. Chime in, Edmonton. Hello, San Diego. Good morning Longmeadow, Massachusetts…Help me!
Does it suck?
I finished working out this morning, and was going to step in the shower, when I realized if I got in now I’d have to listen to church on the radio while I was in there. So I decided what the hell -- family plans or no family plans -- I can take twenty minutes and slap a coat of varnish on the door, and that way I can listen to something more interesting than sin-and-salvation while I shaved my legs.
The irony of the fact that I am working Puritanically in order to avoid religious services on a day I was supposed to rest -- a Sabbath day, no less -- does not escape me.
The first mistake I made was mentioning this little plan to Johnny.
“Don’t you remember what I told you to do?” he said to me.
Um, take a day off, dear? Open up a bottle of champagne, we’ll have mimosas?
“You’ve got to hang the door first and decide if you like it. If you varnish it first it’s going to be a pain in the hole to have to paint.”
Pain in the hole is right. Johnny has to always do everything the right way. It’s so annoying.
Fine. I thought we agreed we didn’t care if the paint peeled off the door after we sold the house and moved away, but fine. I am kind of eager to see it hanging, anyway, so now I‘ll get to see it three days early. Plus this way I don’t have to wash a brush.
The good news is I seem to be only missing one screw after all. I don’t know if Johnny found them, if they were there all along, or if the polter-goosed picked them up for me, but there you have it. And that is good news. Because I wouldn’t have been able to do this at all if I couldn’t put the doorknob on, and I was not going to Lowe’s this morning.
But now it’s hung, and I don’t know what to do. There’s a part of the woodwork right next to the closet that didn’t come quite clean when I was shtupping it for beers. It never bothered me before, but the ass-hat door hanging right there accentuates it , and I think the whole entryway now looks like a a bag of coke exploded and everybody ran.
But if I paint it, I think that will look stupid as well.
Johnny doesn’t have an opinion. And he apparently means that literally right now. He wants to live with it and look at it a while.
So what do you all think? I know you’re out there, so come on. Tell me, Kalamazoo. Chime in, Edmonton. Hello, San Diego. Good morning Longmeadow, Massachusetts…Help me!
Does it suck?
Day 25: Accomplished, with apologies.
Time: 50 minutes, including panicking.
Cost: My sanity.
Having A Forum Where You Can Get Instant Opinions From People Around The World (Please Please Please): Priceless
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