At least until Monday, eh?
In the midst of all this, I’m getting a new tenant, and as she wasn’t moving in on the first of the month, it gave me the perfect opportunity to repaint the back west blue bedroom – something I’ve been longing to do for a while. She picked the color (within guidelines – hey, she’ll be living there, it’s nice to be able to offer her the choice, AND it’s my house, and I want it to look good and be easy to repaint, when it comes time for that), a nice light sage green, and I got the paint and the stepladder out. And the blue tape, always my friend… it takes almost as long as the actual painting, taping the room, but it just makes life so much easier.
Taped it all off, ceilings and baseboards and trim; pulled off all the outlet and switch covers and so on; put on the primer coat; then two coats of color, and it was looking very spiffy indeed. Much brighter and lighter – I was feeling well pleased.
And then I pulled off the blue tape – the baseboards didn’t go badly, the usual small bobbles to touch up, but nothing to write home about, but the ceiling was another story altogether. I pulled off the tape, and with it the paint, and bits of the ceiling as well in the worst places.
It seems the back roof – the roof over the downstairs extension; a hall and two bedrooms – still has an active leak, and with the heavy rains and the tape trapping the moisture, it was Not a Pretty Sight. I had thought it was just an ice dam problem; I had thought wrong.
O, and it had looked so pretty until then, too…
That was last night; Amanda is moving in Monday. Bad enough that by the time we met for the first time (Thursday) I was already sporting a rather eccentric hairstyle, and that the big ice dam damage is as yet unresolved, half the exterior living room wall stripped to studs and sheathing- now this? Her room freshly painted, sure – and the ceiling paint peeling, little chunks of sheetrock mud dropping down, damp edges all around. How perfectly goddamned delightful, to be sure, and just the way I like to present myself and my apartment.
Sooooooooooo….. today I repainted the windowsills, touched up the baseboards and the wall paint, and very carefully went around the entire ceiling edge and covered over the damaged paint. On the worst bits I used caulk to fill in for the missing sheetrock mud – bit of a bodge job really, but there wasn’t time to do the right thing. Sheetrock mud takes forever to dry.
It looks *fine*.
And it’s done before Monday! Huzzah! Now I just have the rest of the compost to screen, the house to tidy (and it is in need), the lawn to mow, the wig* to dye, and liters and liters of fluids to get down my throat…
I have noticed that even with that little bit of work, my left arm is very achy, tender all the way down to my wrist. Bugger. I hope that gets better with time, it is still very new and all.
O, the other note of interest is that I’ve gotten my first medical bill call – VHAP will pay for the first level of genetic testing for BRCA 1 & 2; if I fail at that level, it’s game over, man, game over. If I ‘pass’ (ie, no evident mutations showing a talent for making breast cancer), there’s a more sophisticated second test my physician has ordered which VHAP won’t cover (the BRACAnalysis® Rearrangement Test -aka BART – which detects rare, large cancer-associated rearrangements of the DNA in the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes). It’s $700, and I’ve decided to go for it – even though I think it’s fairly unlikely that I have a detectable genetic talent for cancer, I’d rather know if it’s there.
It’s odd, I’m utterly willing to do this; I’m utterly willing to go through chemotherapy (even with the midline oncotype score); and I’m still very resistant to the thought of five years of tamoxifen. It just seems so long to be messing your body about with chemicals…
*Morgan calls it the ‘scalp of a Republican‘. I love that.