I rag on Husband a lot. But I have reason to. Husband can be a pain in the ass. Aside from all the regular husband things like not putting dishes in the dishwasher or not filling up the empty dog food bin, he’s got all sorts of quirks and issues and weirdness that can make life with him difficult. Very, very difficult. For example, he is not able to eat in other people’s homes. Unless he’s brought the food – and food here is really a bag of potato chips - with him and it’s in a sealed bag and no one else touches the bag. See, difficult. But Husband’s quirks, for the most part, are outweighed by the awesomeness. For example, he’s been working non-stop on my office/studio in the basement when he’d rather be working on his own studio. I realize that logically he really has to finish my space first because it will eventually serve as an entrance to his studio but he could just slap some paint on the walls and be done with it. But, because one of his usually annoying quirks is perfectionism, he’s not skimping on finishes or details at all. And it’s shaping up to be a beautiful space. Squee! When he first showed me the room two years ago this week (!!!), I was not at all optimistic that it would be pretty, let alone functional. I was sure it was the kind of place people were found murdered, glassy eyed in a pool of their congealing blood. The motley stained carpet hiding the awful teal and purplish brown tile pattered didn’t help. Nor did dark wood paneled walls, the mounds of rat poop, questionable dead beasties in the corners and the smell of despair. But Husband promised it would be awesome. Husband promised he’d make it pretty for me. And it is. It’s bright and warm and clean. There’s not a beastie or a pooping rat in sight. At some point soon, there will be space to put all my things - all my “I can make something out of this so I should save It.” things he calls trash. And the laundry room is so clean and shiny; I almost feel bad putting dirty clothes in it. AND, Husband is doing his level best to get the space finished by my birthday – in seven days. See, serious Husband awesomeness! Anyway, here are some pics of the place in progress. I can't seem to find a single picture of the hideous wood panels and motley carpet. They must have been so bad, I couldn't stand to take a picture. And here is what it looks like today - He's got a lot to do in seven days but, since he won't eat in people's homes, we've got nowhere to go!
That, and a depressed, sobbing, one year older woman sitting in the middle of the unfinished floor on her birthday, slowly falling apart is something everyone should avoid.
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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