After my last post about the woeful lack of progress I had made on decorating my bedroom, I thought I had better do something about it. I also felt that I should do something about it whilst the iron was still hot and before I found a million and one other reasons not to. Therefore, today I decided to paint the rest of one of the bedside cabinets.
I did learn some lessons from last time I opened the paint tin. I only got paint on the conservatory floor (I didn’t think to put any old newspaper down), in my hair (I didn’t think to tie it back), and break the handle off a paintbrush (no, I’m not sure how I managed to do this either). I successfully cleaned the new paintbrush, remembering to use white spirit this time. The cabinet looked, well, nice. Nice is not normally I word I like to use, but it didn’t look amazing or crap so nice seems to fit nicely! The cabinet will need a second coat of paint, but I was now well under way to completing my decorating project. All I have to do is give the cabinet a second coat of paint; sand and paint the other bedside cabinet, dressing table, mirror and stool; reupholster the stool seat and headboard; and paint the walls and skirting boards. I’ll be finished by Christmas 2014 if I’m lucky.
Now I understand why my husband hates DIY. What seems like a simple task of redecorating one room becomes a wearisome, boring, dull, monotonous, never-ending, soul destroying, when am I going to finish?; why the hell did I start this? undertaking. No wonder my husband was keen to frog march me off to the DIY store when I mentioned I was going to do this. It wasn’t that time had dulled his memory of how spectacularly bad I am at decorating. More that he figured sorting out whatever mess I made was going to take considerable less time and effort than doing it himself. Cheeky bugger!
Ah, but there are some tasks that are way beyond my very limited capabilities. These things are ones that my hubbie is going to have to do all by himself. I haven’t told him yet. Revenge will be mine!