See the beautiful bathroom? Like then color? It’s Morrel AF-125. And the paint is a new kind of Benjamin Moore…Aura. There are several cool things about this paint. First, you only need one coat. I know, I didn’t believe it either. But it’s true. Second, it doesn’t smell. Seriously. And when you are painting a small room like this, that is huge. And third, it dries really fast.
So you can probably imagine, I was pretty darned excited to try this out. Particularly because the room was previously neon lime green – extra glossy. The boys had seriously outgrown it and I could barely hold my lunch walking past it anymore.
So, I had yesterday morning to myself. The boys were at religious school until 1 :00 and Andrew went for a motorcycle ride.
I got my supplies together, did a little spackling and sanding. Then, I started taping. I wanted to do this right.
I put on my ripped Levi’s that I’ve had for 20 years and my tie-dye t-shirt that I bought at a Dead show at RFK back in the early 90’s. (I had bought one just like it for my grandfather but, alas, he never wore it.)
And I started painting.
I was really making progress. The room was coming together. I was excited.
I’m only 5’5″ (give or take a 1/2″, but who’s measuring?), so I definitely needed a step ladder to paint up to the ceiling. Cautiously, set the ladder in the tub and I could reach!
I stepped back to see my handiwork. I was quite proud.
Time for a Diet Pepsi.
As promised, the paint dried quickly. So I decided to take the tape off and then I’d clean up. One more trip up the ladder.
And then. It happened.
And I fell at the weirdest angle. Since the ladder was in the tub, it slipped and fell. I tumbled out of the tub…onto the tile floor and into the paint pan. I caught myself with my right hand.
This thought flew through my head. “Shit. It hurts.”
And then, I thought about the paint. I wonder what it is on.
Turns out it was on my Levi’s and my tie-dye. Bummer.
I picked myself up and assessed the damage. The room was fine. I could clean up later. I needed an ice pack. I walked downstairs to fill a Ziplock bag. Wow, I can’t open the bag. Not a good sign. Use the teeth. Okay, there.
I need to sit down. But I’m covered with Morrel-colored paint. So I took my ice and went outside. I sat calmly on the grass and waited for Andrew to come home. He was due back any minute.
The fact that he was cooking dinner for 12 for my aunt’s 60th birthday (sorry Phyl! Now everyone knows! – and no one would guess by meeting you! You look mahvalous!) was a little stressful, but he wouldn’t hear of me going alone or calling my dad or a friend.
So even though Andrew was supposed to leave mid-afternoon to prepare for the dinner, he took me to the doc-in-the-box.
After a few tears and some waiting, the doctor took the x-rays. She said my scaphoid was fractured. Yikes. The tech put the hugest splint of all time. Seriously, look at yesterday’s post.
I’m here to tell you that it hurt. A lot.
I don’t know what a pro would charge to paint a bathroom. But I bet it would cost less than my medical bills will…
PS: Tomorrow I see a specialist. All I can say is that it is hard to type, talk on the phone, get dressed, go to the bathroom, eat, sleep, write, fill out medical forms…well, pretty much everything, is difficult with this huge splint on. I’m hoping that a) the doc says it’s fine and takes off the splint or b) he says he can make me more comfortable than this! Frankly, I wonder if they make it so awful so the next solution seems terrific – even if it’s not. We’ll see…