For my birthday this year, instead of the earrings that I wanted, I got a newly remodeled bathroom. Wait, let me rephrase that: I got the stuff to remodel the bathroom.
When we moved in here, we did almost nothing to the house save from starting to live here. When I got pregnant with Alex, we painted the previously Disgustingly Pink ™ room a nice shade of yellow, and because we kind of had to (and really, we enjoyed it) we bought furniture to go in there. Then, in a fit of maternal guilt, we bought most of the stuff to decorate Ben’s room, but because I was hugely pregnant, no progress was made on it. This weekend, we finished Ben’s room. This makes 2 (almost) finished rooms (I still have to hang some stuff in Alex’s room).
After we had bought the stuff for the bathroom (read: beginning of July), Dave set on the nasty task of removing the 3 (!!!!) completely different wallpaper + ancient glue. No easy task. He promptly got sick of it (honestly, who could blame him?) and stopped working on it.
Several weeks ago, I decided that I was sick and tired of living with it, and rather than pay someone (read: I’m cheap), that I would finish stripping the glue and paper myself. I knew it would not be an easy or pleasant road.
Yesterday I began work on it and I’m guessing that it will easily be another month before it’s even remotely completed. The old glue has bonded to the drywall in certain spots, which makes me glad as fcuk that we bought the industrial sized can of spackle.
I supose that on the bright side of things, at least my best and worst quality will play a factor in finishing this project: I’m damn determined.
I must correct myself for a moment. The worst job in the world IS NOT taping for painting. It is removing old wallpaper.