Tick Tock, Tick Tock

Friday. At last.

Since I don't have to work tonight, I have to work tonight. We're painting, Interpeeps!

Of course, we first have to remove the inch-and-a-half of sheet rock dust from the walls and ceiling, but then we're going to town. We plan to start with the ceiling and work our way down. This is due to the fact that Hubster doesn't quite have the bookcase/entertainment center stained, varnished, and built into the wall yet, so there will be more sheet rock work to be done before we can start on the actual colored part of the existing walls.

Because here at La Casa de Unfinished Work, putting the cart before the horse can sometimes be more fact than fiction.

A whole lot more fact.

Kind of like when a certain unnamed person who might or might not live in my house decided to sand the walls without first putting up some sort of barrier like a drop cloth or sheet over the doorways so that the dust from said sanding wouldn't settle over EVERYTHING ELSE IN THE ENTIRE HOUSE. As it did. Even though it was mentioned to that certain someone that an avenue of opportunity afforded itself to cover those very doorways AT LEAST THREE TIMES before said sanding ever started.

Not that it's been almost NINETEEN ENDLESS DAYS OF REMODELING TORTURE and anyone's getting the least bit testy here or anything.

Ahem.

All I know is that I want my livingroom back. I want to be able to walk through my house without running into the Ghosts of Furniture Past in the form of the old livingroom furniture blocking every nook and cranny of the living space we DO have. I want to watch a television that's bigger than a postage stamp while reclining on a REAL chair or sofa instead of sitting upright in my office chair. I want my office to BE an office again, my dining room to BE a dining room, instead of storage for the odd recliner and end table.

And yes, I would like a little cheese with my whine.

So we're setting a goal here. Furniture to be delivered on March 30th. Drop dead date.

And that means either the furniture is delivered then or I drop dead of frustration, so let's hope it's the former.

The clock starts now.