It's quite possible I am the worst painter this world will ever see. I decided to take upon myself the task of painting the laundry room door. We bought the paint to match the rest of our old trim a few months ago but that's as far as the project went. A few days ago Justin asked me why I hadn't taken an afternoon to paint it, and I couldn't figure it out either. Now I remember. I hate painting! I lack the gene required to use a steady hand and keen eye to do a thorough and proper job. But at least the job is done.
I started out this afternoon by finding all my supplies. A drop cloth, a new brush, sand paper, a stool, and wait.... where was the paint? I searched the house while the entire time muttering to myself 'how could I loose an entire can of paint?' until I finally gave up and called Justin at work.
"Where's the paint?" I ask.
"I left it on the dining room table and you put it away. So it's where ever you last put it." He replies.
I groan inside knowing this is probably true but not wanting to admit it to him.
"I haven't ever seen that can of paint - I don't even know what size you bought." I say in protest.
"Well, I'm telling you that you moved it last. Did you look in the basement?"
"Did you look under the sink?"
"Did you check the foyer?"
"Then I don't know what to tell you, babe." He says.
I am notorious for cleaning up the house and putting items away in places they really don't belong. Especially items pertaining to Justin as I never know where their place actually is. So I knew deep down inside that I moved that can of paint and put it somewhere impossibly strange. So I looked and looked and was ready to give up hope when out of the corner of my eye I see a bright yellow Home Hardware bag. I begin to get excited and start thinking 'please let it be the paint'. Hooray! It is. Now why didn't I look inside of an empty beer case to begin with?
I can finally get down to business. After about 5 minutes of painting I realize the complexity of a folding door. There really isn't any good way to paint the door, trim, and jamb all at once. Unless you take the door off the hinge and lay it down flat. I came to this conclusion half way through. So I do my best to get the door painted and couldn't help but having the same feeling I used to get when going into an exam in university when I hadn't quite studied enough. The entire time you're thinking 'oh, this is so not good' and so you rush through it so you can say 'well, at least it's over'. This is how I felt about the door. But at least I learned a few good lessons from this experience.
1- I hate painting. I need to remember this before thinking up any more projects that involve painting. I will still paint our computer room since it's light pink, but I'm afraid Emily is doomed to live in a Burgundy room. Everything matches, it's just not girlie -- but I don't think she'll notice :)
2- I need to be better organized. Justin and I vowed to rent a dumpster as soon as the snow melted this spring... I think it's time. We have too much junk. How do I have 5 old phone books even though I've only lived here for 3 years?
3- Think things through. This project would have been way easier to have completed if the door was on the floor.
4- When I stopped cursing the awful job I was doing and instead thought this would make a funny blog post the job went by much faster!!
5- Keep in mind that the combination of a toddler and wet paint in the main artery of the house is not a good idea. Time to go swimming at Grandma's!
So some positive things came out of this experience. I'll post some pictures of the door when it's dry... although it's nothing exciting to see. And I'm sure Justin will be doing some touch ups when he gets home. But it's done, and I'm thankful. I give credit to all the ladies out there who are paint-aholics (you know who you are) but do marvelous jobs - I could learn a thing or two from you!