Putty, sand, reputty, sand, dust, clean, prime, paint, and paint again, repeat. Tile, plaster, dry wall, trim, rip out disgusting old carpet, figuring out shotty old DYI electrical work, mouse in the freakin' basement, who glues astroturf to the front porch??? Holy crap the floor beam is split, sagging floors, floor jacks, beams, braces, more cracked plaster, hot water heater sprung a leak, doors, need new kitchen hardwear, they want HOW MUCH for freakin' drawer knob?!? Chair railing, crown mold, shoe mold, new toilet, new vainity, caulking, taping, barely sleeping always working, rolling freakin' primer on EVERYTHING in my sleep when I actually sleep, sanding some more, getting rid of overgrown shrubs, finding a hole in the yard ankle first, did I mention barely sleeping? All this to worry about and the wife thinks she has it hard trying to decide which shade of red to paint the front door. Thank God for fathers. And father-in-laws. And especially fathers who are electricians and father-in-laws who are plumbers. Sand some more. Dreams about primer. And for a reward for getting done is having to coordinate and exacute a move during the dang polor vortex.
I am so over this. Can I please go back to my safe little 1/48th world? Please??