Dribbles and Drips

For those keeping score, I hate paint.

If you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, you know that Donna and I are getting married the middle of next month. You may also know that we decided to have the wedding at home. That, of course, means home improvements, most notably painting the entire ground floor.

Sure, we got a couple of quotes on getting this done professionally. I really wish that we could have afforded The Hub’s quote, as he’s someone we know well and trust, and would have no qualms about leaving him here to his work while we went off to ours. And, the painting would have been perfect.

I wish that we could have afforded J the Painter’s quote. I am good friends with his brother, and know his father as well. I’d've had no qualms about leaving him here to his work while we went off to ours. And, the painting would have been perfect.

Alas, if we’d have done that, we’d've had no money left for things like, well … The Wedding and The Honeymoon.

So, for the past several days, I’ve been on a tear, prepping the rooms involved — piling all the furniture and other assorted stuph into the middle of the rooms, spackling and sanding. Last night, I actually got to start painting the trim.

All of the trim painting has to be finished before I go to bed tonight, as tomorrow is the big painting party. The members of the band are coming over to slather paint over all the walls in sight — antique white in the living room, antique white and a deep red color in the dining room, and white white in the hall, stairway and kitchen. Frankly, with all the stuph piled up in the middle of the rooms, I don’t know where all the people are going to go, but, they’re coming.

This would not be so bad if, at the same time, there’s a huge push on to get promotional materials done to get the band playing out more often. This, and the “discussions” involved are taking up an inordinate amount of time, and generally adding to my stress and frustration levels. I’ve frankly gotten to a point where something has to give.

Maybe I should have pursued that job in Portland …