When I was preparing to to paint the room, I had to throw everything in boxes, and because there were no other options, I lugged the boxes into my bedroom.
Normally, under the “best” of circumstances, there is about a 20” wide path that goes from my bedroom door to the windows on the opposite wall. This 20” is at the widest dimension (picture a snake swallowing a rat). This path is surrounded by my bed on one side and by three to four foot high piles of “stuff” everywhere else.
In fairness, some of this “stuff” is actually mine- mostly clothes and books. If you’re a reasonable person, you’re probably wondering why I don’t put my clothes in the closet. It’s the same reason I don’t put the books in my closet. I can’t get to it. And even if I could, I have the same problem going on inside my closet, except smaller. At least, as far as I can remember I do. So, the only place I could find to put those boxes of “toiletries” was in the now even more congested bedroom path.
When it came time to empty that last bathroom cabinet, I removed the door- and faced what looked like my room in miniature or my closet in mini-miniature (at least as far as I can remember). Stuff was packed full into the small opening, flush with the face of the wall. I already knew this was the case, but still, I stared at it- dumbfounded. While I stared, a container of baby powder and two tubes of toothpaste fell out onto the floor.
I decided to say “Forget it”. Even if I had the desire or ambition to dig through all of that stuff, which I didn't, the only place I had to put yet another box of stuff was to squeeze it into the path in my bedroom- a path that was now almost completely choking off my getting to the bed. So instead, I scraped away enough of the junk back from the edge of the cabinet so that it wouldn't avalanche onto the eventually wet paint- and off I went to prep the room- my heart filled with joy!
After a week or so of scraping and patching and sanding (all of which took place after the "Choosing the Tile Color and Paint Color, and How the Hell Am I Going to Pay For All of This" ordeal), I finally finished painting this past Saturday. Yesterday was spent re-outfitting the room with all of the things I had unfastened from the walls- the towel bar, cabinet doors and the like. I announced that I was officially done and I went and fished through the boxes in the bedroom and took what I could find of my stuff. After I washed off the strata of baby powder and dust that coated the razors and bars of soap, I put them in their spiffy new home.
Last night, I was asked about the little low cabinet at the end of the bathroom.
"Are you done with the bathroom?"
"Yes."
*Silence*
"Did you know that you didn't paint the inside of that small cabinet?"
"Yes."
*Silence*
"Oh, I thought maybe you forgot."
"No, I didn't forget. I wasn't planning on it."
*Silence*
*Silence*
"Did you run out of paint?"
"No."
*Silence*
*Silence*
"Oh, I thought maybe you didn't finish it because you ran out of paint."
"No."
*Silence*
*Silence*
*Silence*
"I’ll move the rest of that stuff when you finish it."
*Silence*
*Silence*
*Silence*
*Silence*
(I like pretty flowers)
-The End.
When it came time to empty that last bathroom cabinet, I removed the door- and faced what looked like my room in miniature or my closet in mini-miniature (at least as far as I can remember). Stuff was packed full into the small opening, flush with the face of the wall. I already knew this was the case, but still, I stared at it- dumbfounded. While I stared, a container of baby powder and two tubes of toothpaste fell out onto the floor.
I decided to say “Forget it”. Even if I had the desire or ambition to dig through all of that stuff, which I didn't, the only place I had to put yet another box of stuff was to squeeze it into the path in my bedroom- a path that was now almost completely choking off my getting to the bed. So instead, I scraped away enough of the junk back from the edge of the cabinet so that it wouldn't avalanche onto the eventually wet paint- and off I went to prep the room- my heart filled with joy!
After a week or so of scraping and patching and sanding (all of which took place after the "Choosing the Tile Color and Paint Color, and How the Hell Am I Going to Pay For All of This" ordeal), I finally finished painting this past Saturday. Yesterday was spent re-outfitting the room with all of the things I had unfastened from the walls- the towel bar, cabinet doors and the like. I announced that I was officially done and I went and fished through the boxes in the bedroom and took what I could find of my stuff. After I washed off the strata of baby powder and dust that coated the razors and bars of soap, I put them in their spiffy new home.
Last night, I was asked about the little low cabinet at the end of the bathroom.
"Are you done with the bathroom?"
"Yes."
*Silence*
"Did you know that you didn't paint the inside of that small cabinet?"
"Yes."
*Silence*
"Oh, I thought maybe you forgot."
"No, I didn't forget. I wasn't planning on it."
*Silence*
*Silence*
"Did you run out of paint?"
"No."
*Silence*
*Silence*
"Oh, I thought maybe you didn't finish it because you ran out of paint."
"No."
*Silence*
*Silence*
*Silence*
"I’ll move the rest of that stuff when you finish it."
*Silence*
*Silence*
*Silence*
*Silence*
(I like pretty flowers)
-The End.
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