We’ve progressed in the travel trailer rehab to the point where things don’t even have names anymore.
“I am not primering that bullshit,” I muttered this afternoon, four hours into my trailer work day. I was referring to a part of the bedroom built-in nightstand that even an acrobat wouldn’t be able to reach. Well, not an acrobat or anyone with tiny hands.
But it is no longer the “Built-in Nightstand.” Its name is Bullshit. And it is NOT getting primered, which means it’s probably not getting painted, so don’t judge if you’re ever in my travel trailer bedroom looking at this one side of Bullshit.
Then I told the backdoor frame it wasn’t getting primer all the way to the floor. “I just don’t have it in me.”
And I just pulled leaves out of my hair. Like, right now, typing, pulled leaves out of my hair.
Don’t ask.
My left foot fell into the furnace vent. I dropped the “f” bomb (loud) like it was hot.
Later, I mumbled, “F*ck you,” and then was like, “Who are you talking to? The primer? Bullshit? The person who had this crazy idea?”
Oh.
So, yesterday’s 2-hour ordeal was fixing saggy ceiling tiles in the living room. I’m not even going to explain the problem or the materials that created the problem, nor am I going to get into the structural nuances of the Rambler that make finding a wood stud to screw IMPOSSIBLE.
But our devised plan worked and after some measuring, cutting, tripping to Home Depot (twice), screwing, nailing, drilling, hammering, laughing, yelling, selfie-ing, we think we got it. Here’s some photographic proof of THAT.
Today. Primering the bedroom (twice). Ripping up (most of the) carpet in the bedroom. Primering the cabinets and drawers in the bedroom. Painting some cabinets and setting them out to dry in the sun. Random 3rd coat of paint in the kitchen. Bagging trash. Removing the dirty old mattress. Primering trim. Wiping down walls. Unscrewing curtain rod holders. Taping off light fixtures. Oh, and vacuuming.
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