Paint: My “Gateway” Drug!


paintI have to psyche myself up today — after four days off, I have to go back to work. I’m trying to view this going back to work thing as a mini-vacation from all the hard work I’ve been putting in here at the hovel. It’s not really working, though.

On the up side, I only have to work for the next three days — because I’m off for four days again next week. The down side is that I will be required to spend a good chunk of that time cleaning up the mess I made after I decided to tackle the hall closet yesterday. Yes, I know. I haven’t even finished the bathroom and I’ve started something else. Are you all in cahoots with my husband? Don’t judge me! This is just the kind of gal I am — one thing always leads to another.

For example, I swore that I was only painting the bathroom. I promised my husband that I was only painting the bathroom. I think he knew better. Paint, at least for me, functions as a sort of a “gateway” drug — once I get a taste, I want more — and I want the hard stuff — I begin to envision how nice my hallway will look in a medium blue with black and white accents, or how a nice caramel color will make my entryway “pop”. And the kitchen? I imagine that a happy yellow — accessorized with black and white toile (of course!) — would be delightful. If I were to stumble across a pretty gingham to accent the toile, I wouldn’t pass it by!

Last night he caught me wandering around the hallway with a measuring tape. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. His face said, “I knew it!” When I finally came into the bedroom, he just said, “I thought that we were going to concentrate on the bedroom next week. So, what is it you’re doing out there in the hallway with a tape measure?” Glancing over, he couldn’t help but notice that there were paint chips on my iPad screen — blue paint chips — and so he had to comment, thusly: “I thought we agreed that we weren’t painting the bedroom — or anything else.”

I explained to him that as I had already dumped the contents of the closet into the hallway and as I had to paint the vintage metal cabinet that lives there anyway, I thought that I might as well just go “whole hog” and paint the walls, too. I also wanted him to know that I had finally worked out a solution to the laundry problem — this, my friends, is what I call a “pot sweetener”! (Because he is forever saying things like, “This laundry is ridiculous. We need to find a better place to put it!” — and we do.)

We have a very big laundry problem here at the hovel — one that I’ve been making lackluster attempts at addressing for several years now — all, sadly, to no avail. But I think I’ve finally cracked it. Here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to raise some black shelving off of the floor by placing it onto cinderblocks (painted, of course!) so that I can clear the baseboard heater. Atop the shelving I will place three laundry baskets flush to the wall — then I’m going to put some cute little signs above each basket, which will read: “Whites”, “Towels”, and “Colors”. I thought about putting the towel hamper in the closet, eliminating it from the triptych altogether, but that would leave me with only two hampers and two signs that say: “Whites”and “Colors”. That left me feeling uneasy — without the “Towels”, the whole enterprise just smacks of the “segregated South”. And, really, who needs THAT kind of anxiety when one has finally removed one of the biggest stumbling blocks to organization in the history of the world? Not me!

Amazingly, my husband didn’t even call this idea “stupid”. I thought he would get all caught up in the painted cinderblock thing, but he didn’t. (Maybe he didn’t process that part of the scheme — I was doing some pretty good “fast-talking” to “sell” my little plan!) I did notice a quasi-eyeroll when I discussed the whole “Whites”, “Colors” dilemma. He suggested that I abandon the signage idea altogether. He advised me to simply tell the one other person in the house who was not present for this conversation — the teenager — which basket would be for whites and which would be for colors. HA! As if. Even he had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of that suggestion!

We then had to discuss “hampers”. I’m sure he was hoping that I would settle for a few of those Rubbermaid ones — the kind that you pick up at Target, you know, where they sell the dish drains, the plastic totes, and other utilitarian items. Sure, they’re useful, but they’re also not what I have in mind — and he knows it! What I have in mind will cost money — real money — and he knows that, too! Because I have one in my bedroom — it has become “his” hamper. And he loves it. He also knows that it was $70. It’s a beautiful blackish rattan — imagine, if you will, a nice, steaming hot cup of Starbuck’s before you add the cream. It has a flat back and a curved front. The lid opens and closes nicely and quietly. It’s a beauty! If, say, Mercedes made hampers — it would be this one. Obviously, I’ll need three of them. I told him that he could give his up and then we’d only need two. As a testament to how much a man can love a hamper — even a cheapskate like my husband — he told me to go ahead and spend the money.

Stay tuned, kids! If my husband doesn’t knock me off the ladder, I’ll be posting some more exciting pieces about the wonderful world of hampers!

photo credit: paint

12 thoughts on “Paint: My “Gateway” Drug!

  1. Kyle says:

    I’m learning the hard way that when you paint one wall you have to paint all the others. I too have hamper issues. I’ve labeled them but no one in this house can read.

    Like

    • javaj240 says:

      It’s addictive, isn’t it?

      I hold out very little hope that the correct items will wind up in their respective baskets — I’m just hoping I get some “heaven points” for trying!

      Like

  2. Yes, pictures. Gotta see some pictures!

    Like

  3. Vanessa says:

    Honestly, you need to photo document this entire process and then publish a coffee table book. I WILL BUY IT.

    Like

  4. Ginger Kay says:

    Oh, so exciting! Your drugs must be contagious, because you’re making me want to break out the paint chips.

    Like

    • javaj240 says:

      Just don’t mention you got the idea from me — I don’t want any angry husbands stalking me — I’ve got my hands full with my own, LOL!

      Like

  5. peachyteachy says:

    I am so behind on reading your blog. Vacation with no internet will do that to you. The fact that your man appreciates the Benz hamper gives him some real blog cred. You tell him I said so.

    Like

Tell Me What You Think!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s