Frustration!!!

So I have to say that camping out in my own house is kind of an adventure - at least it's an adventure when I'm feeling well. It's a nuisance when I'm not. These last couple of days I've had either a head cold or some kind of toxic-paint-fume-induced malaise. Either way, I haven't felt like my normal spry self. Just kind of tired with a stuffy head. Not enough to do anything about, just enough to want a hot bath and chicken soup. A real bed wouldn't hurt either.

Eric came over one evening to help me sand and prime the ceilings, which was fun. Basically I was stuck three rungs up a ladder, while he stood, feet flat, and sanded the ceiling. I suppose it's easier if you're 6'4" and long-limbed. He's planted himself firmly on my list of people to call for help in high places.

Mom and Dad came in on Friday for the much-anticipated start of the bamboo flooring project. I rented a nailer that basically operates like the strong-man contest at the fair. Once you position the nailer, you whack the plunger with a rubber mallet (I kid you not) and then, like magic, your nail is secure in your board without any damage to the surface. At least that's how the tool rental guy billed it. I had hopes for one complete room of bamboo floors - those hopes were only beginning to wane when, by noon, we barely had the underlayment down. Then, when we started into the ridiculous nailing process, all hope was lost.

Basically, in the 10 or so hours my parents were here helping, we managed to secure three rows of boards. Three!! I think Aunt Lyn was right when she said she'd clear her calender in 2012 for the housewarming. The first row was naturally tedious because it's too close to the wall to use the nailer, so you have to pre-drill and nail all of the boards (naturally at awkward angles, with unnaturally thin nails). Once we got far enough away from the wall we could use the magic nailer thingy and had hopes of just speeding through the floor with ease. Ha! Not so much.

As it turns out, only a strong-man from the fair could actually use the nailer correctly - You really have to beat the hell out of the thing to get it to work, but then if you hit it too hard (not a danger for me, but my father had some trouble) then the nail mangles the board. Grrrrr. Clearly this is not the right tool for the job. I can't believe I have almost a thousand square feet to put down in bamboo... Maybe carpets aren't so bad after all.

Overload... Or, 'terminal painting.'

I think reality is starting to sink in. I've started painting, which seems like a simple enough job. Really it's at the bottom of the list of difficult things to do. Not a lot of skill, just repetitive motion and fumes. Not even as messy as the popcorn ceilings. And yet, I find myself daunted by the enormity of the paint job. Always before when I've painted it's been small rooms, single walls, minor projects. With this house I can paint all day and go to sleep with the knowledge that there is only going to be another like that coming, and others after that.

The paint is just the beginning. With everything it seems that the doing of the thing itself is simple, but preparing the house for the doing of the thing is ridiculous and complex. Putting down the floors, for example, requires tightening the sub-floors, putting new screws into the squeaky bits, filling holes, leveling (clearly the scariest bit of all), putting down underlayment and THEN you can start actually putting the bamboo. The bamboo itself is like a minor finishing step in the process. It seems everything in the house is that way.

Not only that - It's dawned on me that I'm going to be camping in my living room for a long time. Many moons. And my damn air mattress sighed it's last sigh last night and I woke this morning on concrete. Grrrr. Nothing like a good swift dose of reality to shake things up a bit.

Is this when someone is supposed to remind me that I am getting what I asked for?

In better news, my cat (Cat) found a cupboard that he has settled into in my bedroom. Historically he always claims one cupboard wherever we live, and his choice has been made. He's also found a nemesis in the fat squirrel who lives in the neighbor's tree - they've developed a morning routine of angrily chattering at eachother whilst maintaining a safe distance.

All Hallows Eve...

It has recently occurred to me that my life *may* be a little abnormal at the moment. Most people, when they roll out of their sleeping bag on their living room floor Halloween morning, probably don't say: 'Damn. Halloween. I think I have plans. I was really hoping to screw down the squeaky bits in my floor.'

Nor, truth be told, do they try to think of a costume that conveniently works in the wall texturizing spray that they can't quite get out of their hair. Maybe 'construction zombie'? I wouldn't even have to change my clothes. Convenient!

Ah the joys of being different. The good news is that I think my body is finally figuring out how to cope with constant physical labor, which means that right now only my back and neck hurt, as opposed to every inch of me. The back and neck pain is, I believe, directly caused by priming the ceiling - I don't think there is a body born that can hold it's arms up above it's head and stare, open mouthed, at the ceiling for an hour without being a little creaky for the next couple of days. I feel justified in this back pain. Thank all the angels and seraphims that I share an office with one of the best Chiropractors in town - Dr. Victor has been fixing the kinks regularly and only occasionally muttering at me about taking care of my body. He's a saint.

So - for Halloween,the girls and I are (naturally) going to Oktoberfest in New Bronfels to eat bratwurst and drink beer and maybe throw in the occasional deep fried oreo. That's what you're supposed to do on Halloween right? Right?