Sunday, January 04, 2009

disconnected bits

Garage apartment renovations taking over our life.
Everything hurts.
Drywall dust in my nether regions.
Drywall mud holding together my clothing.

Used Bondo for the first time.
Boy is that Toxic Epoxy. (Say that 6 times--but keep your serious filter mask on.)
Cut some drywall and put it up. Like a holy DIY puzzle, it is.

Have spent so much time in Home Depot, I'm starting to straighten out the shelves as we shop.

Have to make a herculean effort not to allow loud groaning noises to escape when I move. Either arm. Or stand up or lie down. Then, I sound like the Tin Man. Only instead of crying, "oil can" you can just make out, "kill me now."

Set out on a trip to Perfection.
Detoured at Damn That Looks Good.
Am pricing motels in Adequate Considering.
Hope we don't break down in Who Gives a Shit.

1 comment:

Menchuvian Candidate said...

Oh, man, do I love you.

2 things: When the heir was learning to walk we were living with my parents pre-my mother's bi-lateral knee replacements. When he started climbing stairs he groaned.

I haven't mastered Home Depot yet, though, yes, there is more than one worker there who will come over to "catch up" with me when I'm shopping. (Hi, Sam! Hi, El! Hi, Burt!) My problem spot is IKEA. a) I can find my way around, and know all the shortcuts through departments b) I can quote craigslist resale prices for 197% of the inventory c) when there last I overheard someone critiquing a bathroom item, and I was able to direct her upstairs to the kitchen department where the same line featured exactly what she was seeking.

Umm, and I've moved beyond meatballs to the ginger toffees.

< burp >