Rachael Ray is hot but just because I watch her show it doesn’t mean I can cook. Did it motivate me to get off my fat ass and start cooking again? It did and being a single guy it’s important to find motivation. I needed to cook again because at some point I knew I’d date and I can’t throw a frozen pizza into an oven to impress a chick. It was important to use skills I had allowed to grow rusty.
This brings me to the new house. I was all psyched to take on this new project of painting and stripping but at some point I knew reality would come knocking. I was going to the house and I was hoping that when I got there the painting fairies had come in and painted while I was gone. I’d hear crazy singing and I’d walk in and see little fairies putting our cupboard doors back on.
When I walked in the house looked the same. It looked like my house threw up. The wood was still half stripped and that reminded me that when I bought the stripper I really should of bought gloves. I could still hear the echoes of the screams as stripper met skin. It burns like the devil’s ass and when you spray it you need to yell out; “Fire in the hole!” If you don’t it will burn and you will hate whoever sprayed you.
The cupboards were still laying on the floor and there were staples still in the floor where we simply forgot to take them out. Those were left on purpose I swear because I was the only one who kept stepping on them. Nothing keeps you motivated like a staple stabbing you in the foot.
The painting seemed easy and fun. A project that would bond everyone together. Not so much. One bedroom looks like it could exist in Whoville. Lime green with blue trim. I opened the door and I swear to you my eyes could not take it all in. I thought I saw Who’s running in and out of the closet. Everyone wanted to paint and it was total insanity.
I got a text saying people were freaking out and it was all bad and I had a moment where I truly didn’t want to come home. I almost pussied out. I felt like the world’s biggest asshole because I was so sure about this and suddenly I didn’t want to come home to go home. There weren’t any other options. I had to come home. This is one of many situations that either make or break a relationship and if I can’t handle this what does that say about me? Not much.
I went home. I slowly opened the door expecting bodies and blood and instead there was laughter. As soon as I walked in the house I felt it. This is where I belong. Despite the chaos, the mess and the exhaustion I looked around at the kids, my girl and I knew I was home.
After three months of living with my parents I had done what I set out to do. Find a house that was mine and now it was ours. There was no other place I wanted to be. Sure, it smelled like paint thinner and oldman’s ass but this was doable.
HGtv doesn’t prepare you for the chaos that exists in a project like this and that pisses me off. You don’t get the mess or any idea of how many hours you’re going to invest. Why is it that the more you do the less it looks like you accomplished?
Home Improvment projects suck so bad. I have never taken on something like this. We keep saying that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel but what if it’s a train? I am usually lazy when it comes to shit like this but this woman has motivated and has convinced me this is all going to work. I look around and shake my head but I trust her I realize that she’s right.
I’ve known her for so long that when she says the impossible’s possible I believe her. I can’t tell her that she’s right cos then she’ll get this idea that I’ll just go along with what she says and if I admit that she’s actually right, I’m screwed. It’s bad enough that if she wants something and I say no all she has to do is pout and I cave. If I told her she was right I’d never hear the end of it.
The house looks like shit. The downstairs is so fucked up but I went upstairs and saw what I needed to see and I was good. It’s almost over and damn you HGtv for having me believe that this would be a cakewalk. It’s the most insane thing I’ve ever done and will never do this again. Unless my girl starts pouting and meowing at me and then I know I’ll do it all over again.