I keep my promises to myself. Productivity really was the name of the game this weekend.
Friday night I cause my hair a bit of heat damage but ended up with a few flat ironed curls on my head. I also ended up with a few freaky things going on with my hair, too, but they weren't nearly as impressive. Nothing stuck, though, because I didn't have the proper products to get it to. Now I do, though, so the big task is to manage more than one curl per day. My poor, fried hair.
You don't care about my hair, though, let's be honest. You care about my bathroom. Or my potty as I have inexplicably taken to calling it this weekend. "Painting the potty" was my Saturday task and dang, was it a task and a half.
Truthfully, it only took about an hour or so per coat once all the cutting in and taping was done. My mom volunteered to do the cutting in which took her less than an hour, I think, and I did the taping. Taping was actually the longest, most painful part of the process. It alone took about 90 minutes to complete, and I didn't even do that good of a job on it.
I also painted the long procrastinated base boards in our living room. Yes, I win.
Starting the bathroom was a pretty big ordeal. The first thing that happened was a giant paint spill on the bathroom floor as Mom tried to pour it onto a pie plate. Thankfully there was newspaper there otherwise it would have been catastrophic. Every few seconds, though, she'd say things like "oops" and "oh no," making me squirm as I finished taping up the bathtub.
Eventually she had to leave and I was left to my own devices. The very first thing I did was step barefooted into the paint tray. Thankfully I only got a little paint on the floor and none on my foot and it all wiped up nicely. I did use some rather colourful language, I'll admit. It was, to be honest, not a very good start at all.
Using a roller is fun when it comes to painting. It's easy to use and you know you're doing the job right when you use it. Except for when you get too close to the ceiling which, by the way, I now have to paint as well. Hurray! Just kidding, I'd rather poke myself in the eye. I don't know how that works because I'm going to paint the ceiling anyway. I can't handle the dark grey that seems to be... everywhere, and not just on the walls where it was meant to be.
Sunday morning I couldn't stop staring at how rough the paint job was. There were a couple spots that needed the roller again and even more that needed more delicate type touch ups. My grumpiness level was rising. I don't like to leave jobs mostly unfinished and at a "better than nothing" stage. I understand that I'm not a professional painter, but I don't want to leave the bathroom, such a small space where so much time is spent, looking barely passable. Darker walls leave less room for forgiveness against a white ceiling.
My stress level was rising. I didn't want to leave the room looking so horrible and empty, but I didn't want to put everything back in it if there was more painting to do. That's a surefire way to ensure that it takes another two years to finish it (like our living room baseboards). The thing was, we had plans for the afternoon after church and I wasn't actually confident in my abilities to fix what was wrong. I am, after all, a complete amateur and can't paint in a straight line to save my life. Unless maybe with a roller. But you can't use rollers on little things! I was choked, to say the least.
That's when my mom stepped in. I told her I was depressed about our bathroom situation and, much as I liked the colour, was starting to regret ever painting it. Surely it would have been better as a light, primer-type grey than such a clear hack job. Surely! Well, Karl and I went to church and she stayed home with a pinched nerve and did all our bathroom touch ups. There's still one that needs doing although it'll only take about two minutes.
Mom did a great job, though. I'm not sure how much time she spent in there and if she did it all once while we were at church or split it up between then and later in the afternoon when we went out. Either way, she wins the MVP award for bathroom painting. It wasn't until last night right before bed that I realized that she hadn't just painted yesterday because... magically... our toilet was clean. Clean! Our sink was, too. Cleaning the bathroom was pretty high on my priority list but I figured I'd wait until today and do the whole thing. I was happy I almost cried. Almost. It had been a long day but not that long.
Painting a bathroom is certainly not my idea of a good time. I don't think I will every use tape again when dealing with wall meets ceiling type spaces. It made too many uneven yucky spots that I now need to figure out a way to deal it. I'm sure cutting in won't be the easiest thing to do but I'm willing to learn it for the sake of my sanity next time I paint something. I also think Karl might be pretty good at it so maybe I won't surprise paint things anymore and make sure he's there to give me a hand. He did say he'd help me next weekend with the ceiling. Oh, the ceiling. Maybe I'm not looking forward to the weekend.
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