So not a contracter.

Texas has been about learning what I can and can't do. I remember after the 24 hour drive here deciding that truck driving really wasn't my calling. I've discovered this week that contracting probably isn't either.

First of all, it's just annoying being small. There are so many projects that just require a bigger framed person. It's really hard to rip up flooring when you are my size. Sure, I can handle tile and carpet, but press board is another story. It's hard to lug it down the stairs and through the gym and heave it into the garbage too! And the paint sprayer, I think that thing (with the gallon of paint in one hand and the gun in the other) weighs about half as much as I do! Start pointing it at the ceiling and you've got a backache the size of this state!!

There are some things I'm just right for, like spackling all the cracks in wood paneling to pretend it's dry wall and sanding it. Or cleaning and painting high impact plastic chairs, then putting them back together. Or shuffling (disgusting) fiberglass insulation and ceiling tiles around the room. I'm good at of that.

So the remodel is well, remodeling. I have a much greater sense of hope today then I did Monday, thankfully. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures to show you, not because we haven't taken them, just because we've misplaced the Kodak in the shuffle. I'm sure it will appear eventually.

Oh, and the good news? I get to buy new tennis shoes because I accidently kind of sprayed myself with the paint gun while I was painting the ceiling tiles (they were on the floor)