More Pikshas? I Hardly Know Yas

Jordana was just seconds away from saying, “Dude, can you stop taking pictures and try and help me?”

A few blogs ago, I listed “Sanding the Ceiling” up with “Finding Out Friends Are Dead” as things I don’t want to do anymore. I have to admit, if it would get me out of working on this house anymore, I would *totally* take one of my friends dying.

The fucker’s just drying out now, up there at the top. Of course, I’m doing all this work because I’m trying to preserve as much of the original plaster ceiling as possible. Yeah, right. I don’t want to hang drywall on another goddam ceiling so I’m keeping the original and patching in drywall, and it’s really tough to get even.

The truth is, I’ve messed some stuff up in this house, and there’s very little I can do about making it better. There are doorways where the drywall doesn’t meet the opening, there are exposed pipes and wires in the basement that I’m not gonna cover for a couple of weeks, and we still haven’t even *ordered* our kitchen cabinets, and that takes six weeks to deliver.

I’m not gonna lie, yesterday I’d had it with this house, and today I didn’t feel any better. I need another month, and not in that “OhmyGod, it’s tech week and we aren’t gonna be ready to open” kind of way, because the show opens and you can drop *every single line all frickin night* and you still won’t be sleeping in a room full of plaster dust. We are gonna move in on Saturday, and then on Sunday we are gonna leave to celebrate our one year anniversary.

Hilariously, we were supposed to have a longer honeymoon last year, but we just left for three days. It’s been a year, we’ve taken no vacations since then, and we are cutting our trip (to upstate New York, by the way, so it aint like it’s the Bahamas to begin with) short because we’ve got to get back and deal with the disaster that is this house.

I have a niece that’s growing up and I’ve seen her, like, twice. I went to play golf with my brother and we played *six holes* because I had to get back.

Look, I know I’m lucky, I know these are problems that 80% of the world would kill for. I’m landed, I own land, I’m basically the ari-frickin-stocracy and I have no right to complain, being a fat greasy unemployed moron without a high school diploma who woke up the other day as the proud owner of a home that will be worth a million dollars at some point in my lifetime, but I’m really goddam tired and I really wish I didn’t have all this shit to do.