Trailer Rehab: Re-doing a trailer is cause for cursing and personal reflection

You think it’s easy.

Really all it needs is a coat of paint and new flooring.

It took us a day and three people to remove all the cabinet doors and hardware.

Seriously. One day. Three people.

It took half-a-day and two people to rip out the carpet in half the trailer.

It took me eight hours to prime the cabinet doors and some of the door frames and get a first coat of paint on them. A first coat.

It took me an hour to get a coat of primer on two walls.

For real. How complicated can primering a travel trailer wall be?

Pretty effing complicated.

I decided today: Painting a travel trailer is like a painting a doll house. It’s a bitch. Everything (everything) is on a miniature level and you can’t turn around quickly or back up without arms, asses and hair all in the little tiny bit of space you’ve just painted. Or primered. I am not the most graceful individual (I spilled a bottled water in my lap yesterday … sitting down … sitting still) and I like things done pronto. Oh, and I like seeing quick results.

But this. This requires finesse and spending 15 minutes on a cabinet door. And the results are coming slowly (at least to me).

On Day 2 of primering cabinets (why did that take TWO DAYS?!), I lost interest in the first 10 minutes. In my head, I sounded like a little kid on Minute 5 of any road trip.

Are we there yet? I’m so bored. There’s nothing fun to do.

And the parent is like, “Let’s play a game. Let’s count all the states we see on the license plates as we speed by.”

Or in my case:

“Let’s play a game. Why don’t you shut up, grab another cabinet and keep primering?” Primering takes so freaking long. (Why?!)

Then there are these moments:

Oh look. That door (the bathroom door) has a doorknob. It needs to be painted around. With a paintbrush.

I ain’t got no time for that. (because suddenly the voice in my head doesn’t speak proper English)

Well, you do, technically, have time for that. But you have not the patience. Mom can do the touch-up later.

(Mom, there might be a lot of touch up for you).

And there are the moments I second-guess myself:

Is painting the first project you should have undertaken?

Maybe it should have been making sure the plumbing works? Or that the electric wiring is all in tact? Or that the sagging roof was properly screwed back into the ceiling? Or the piece of wall that’s bowing out be refastened to the aluminum frame?

I’m still not sure that I made the right choice.

But what can be done about it now? Shit’s getting painted. After it’s primered.

Primering! I feel like I should have watched a tutorial on that.

I have so many questions.

Should it be leaving little air bubbles as it dries? It goes on smooth, then air bubbles appear.

Do I have to do two coats of primer on paneling?

Does the application of primer need to be done in even strokes?

Should there be drips?

DOES PRIMER EVEN MATTER?!

I know the answer to the last question. Begrudgingly.

I found a couple cabinet doors that haven’t been primered or painted.

You’re gonna have to wait. I’m a little busy with your cabinet brothers and sisters. (because suddenly they’re a reproducing family).

Also. How do you lose a couple cabinet doors in 216 square feet?

But for all the cursing I’ve done and the mental throw-my-hands-in-the-air, the trailer has taught me a few things too.

#1: Some of the biggest changes happen in the small stuff. (Reapply that coat of paint on all the cabinet doors even if it sets you back a day. And this time, lay the doors flat to dry, dumbass. And yes, it’s worth the extra few minutes to cut in the paint with a paintbrush all around the ceiling.)

#2: Treat this tiny space with reverence. It’s not much, but it’s home. (This is your one wall big enough for a splendid piece of art. Make it count.)

#3: You’re already doing something unconventional. Keep going. (Buy a different color, texture, shape door knob for every cabinet. You only have about 20. Let them be their own beautiful.)

#4: Stop obsessing about a time table. (You’re not behind. You’re right on schedule. This isn’t a damn race. Stop future tripping.)

#5: Think about what you’re doing. (You’re doing it! Yeah, you might be annoyed because (god forbid!) this is a project that’s going to take awhile, but chill the eff out. Enjoy this moment, because this moment is your {darling, adventerous, crazy} life.

Also. You asked for it.