I am so irritated right now that blogging seems like a good idea to get it all out. I am going to try not to swear. I spent all afternoon cleaning two years of crap from our spare room. Actually I just threw all Bill's crap into a big box; he will never go through it so it seems more clever to have a big box of it rather than it spewn all over the floor. I also bought a few wall shelves and a bulletin board to display Bill's running trophies and medals. It was my secret project. I started with a positive attitude, got the drill, hammer, screws with anchors, diet coke and I was all set. After the first drill attempt I realize my 108 year old walls suck and they are made of pure rock or something. Apparently it is plaster according to my handy dad who could have completed this job in like 10 minutes but lives 1000 miles away. Remind me again why I chose to go to college so far away. It is all Tom Brokaw's fault- long story.
Ok first I call my husband because it seems like the right thing to do before running to daddy but he is busy at work and it is supposed to be a secret project so I really don't give him the details. I call my dad, try to explain to him what was happening and trying not to sound like a girl about to cry. I am be overtired today. My dad said 'go to Ace Hardware. some guy there can help you get what you need. sorry, beautiful, I am not there'. That just makes me more sad. So I go off to Ace, find a helpful guy like my dad said and got these fancy screws+anchors all in one for concrete or whatever kind of crap walls we have in our horrible guest room with nasty blue paint. Apparently many people come to Ace with similar emotional issues because there is a whole case of candy on the way out and I do a very non weight watcher thing and eat because I'm sad, lonely and tired. But it tasted good! My spirits are semi lifted. I return home ready to go. I get those new screws in place. Their heads are too big for holes in the back of the shelf. Shit. Seriously. So I improvise and finally get these two little shelves up. The level says they are not level which must be lying because I checked it like 10 times. Screw it. They are staying put. The rest of our house is on a tilt so maybe it is our 108 year old house which is not level. Now it is time to put up the bulletin board. I measure the distance between the holes on the back of the board, I measure their height from the top. I use a pencil to mark the wall and feeling pretty good about getting this done before Bill gets home. I drill the first hole, put in my fancy all in one screw. Then I go to the next hole. I start to drill, about 1 in circle of paint and plaster come flying at time. What the heck did I hit. I pull the drill out and it literally looks like I'm drilling into rock. I improvised a bit, remind myself that I can do this, I am Joe Cook's daughter after all. I get that screw in finally and then attempt to put up the bulletin board. It won't go. I am off by like a nano inch. Shit. Seriously. I have made this nasty looking huge hole in the way, all the paint is gone and I can't possible make a hole just a nano inch next to it. I try and try and try to get it to go, hammer the screw a bit to the L and up. Nothing works. I hate this house and its well put together 108 year old walls. Bill comes home. "What are you doing?"he asks. "Get down from there." (I am standing on the desk). I explain what I have been through and that I can't get this to go. He assures me he can fix it and get it work. Then I say a really bitchy mean wife comment, "In what like 3 years?". That comment comes from deep down issues about some unfinished projects we have around this house, too numerous and not fair to Bill to recollect in this blog but apparently I am bothered by them. The comment comes more from feeling helpless, hot in my non air conditioned 108 year old house that I currently hate and tired. I need to go apologize but before I do, let's summarize....
108 year old house 2 Katie 0
-- the first two brackets for the new curtains are in the wall uneven with a screw stuck the last time I tried to do something handy around the house
-- the dang bulletin board will not go and there is nasty bare plaster showing in our ugly yet clean extra room with nasty blue paint
Dad, hurry and come visit. Your to-do list is getting longer.
ADDENDUM: I had a long equally hilarious addendum written but blogger lost it. Curses. But it will suffice to say. I apologized. Bill was unfazed yet again at my ability to catastroph-ize (my friend Kim's made up word make catastrophe into a verb or used as catastrophizer the noun). He thanked me for thinking of how to highlight his awards and is thrilled the uncleaned room is now clean again after 2 years. He reminded me that it is a good life lesson to not attempt anything in the extra room between the months of May and Sept due to heat. He did remind me that I promised never to say I hated this house because if I truly hate this house then we need to move and I would be in charge of every detail of moving including finding the house, financing the house, packing our stuff including one zillion star wars figures which are all in a particular order, moving the stuff, unpacking the stuff and getting the new house all arranged. He has promised not to lift a finger in moving if we move because of my hatred of our house. I do wonder when we will get that bulletin board up. We have a long standing bet on the pile of rocks in our driveway that we bought last year for landscaping. He has a grand plan for landscaping, however he has not moved one single rock and they still sit on the driveway since we bought them in Spring 2007. The bet is that I think the rock will still be there when my dad retires. Bill says my dad will never retire. Keep reading to see who wins.
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