Whoever said remodeling was fun is an idiot! There. I’ve said it. Obviously they don’t work, have a kid who is involved in everything under God’s green earth, and have a husband who says, “We can do that ourselves!” Music to my dying ears!
It’s been two weeks and I’m already tired of this whole project. Curse the day I evah thought I wanted to actually BUILD a house!! I’m overwhelmed and honestly just tired of making decisions. All I wanted was a bigger house. That’s it. Slap a little paint on the walls and there ya go!
I guess it all started Friday when the contractor didn’t show back up. Granted, he was suppose to start the job on Tuesday but didn’t show until Thursday. After we saw the errors that he made, we called him Thursday evening to discuss. No biggie. Or so we thought. Like I said, he didn’t show on Friday. I personally think he’s saving us for a “rainy day.” And although we are known to have afternoon thunderstorms here in Louisiana, we certainly don’t have chunk floaters in the summer time, so Mr. Contractor needs to tighten up his tool belt and get back to business at the Rammer Jammer Residence.
On Saturday morning, I just missed the floor guy who swears that his sanding machine that “rents-for-$1,100-per-day-in-Dallas” (We’re five hours away from Dallas and our little metropolis is no where NEAR the size of Dallas!) can most definitely take up the remaining grout and sand the concrete back to a layer so that no grout lines are visible once we stain it. He promised to do a test spot for me to see. Guess the “$1,100-per-day-in-Dallas” machine is sick.
By Sunday evening at 8 o’clock, our island builder decides to show up. I’m in the middle of making a grilled cheese sandwich for Alise and Wayne calls insisting that I get back to the Rammer Jammer Residence to talk to him. So I do. With little orphan Annie in a torn Mermaid nightgown carrying a paper plate of grilled cheese. We talk and talk and talk and talk. Then it’s time to show him what I want to do in the bathrooms.
And that’s when it happens. Total change of plans. Forget the island. While we have the bathrooms tore up beyond repair (or so it seems at this point) we need to postpone the island since it’s just a “drop in” and do the bathroom cabinets first to avoid a second tear out. UGH!!!
Aha! He has a point.
So by tomorrow morning at 7:30, I’ve got to decide cabinet height, cabinet width, how many drawers, how many doors, how many sinks, paint or stain, what type surface, and a whole other slew of questions and ideas. By 7:30. Tomorrow morning.
And to think! All I really wanted was a slap of paint!
I think I need to be slapped out of my misery!