12. Tim the Tool Man

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See the promise on the box? 

“…in 1/3 the time” 

Liars.

I’ve been working on my studio for what seems like forever.  I’m pretty sure ya’ll want me to shut the hell up about my studio.  Well, DD had a marvelous idea.  We have nice wooden boxes that stack.  Why not use those instead of buying something or making something new.  Actually, they’re good.  The right size.  They’re modular and can be arranged in many, many ways.  Some even have drawers, so I can actually put some of my bits and bobs away.

One issue?  They’re the wrong color.  Completely wrong.

Solution?  Paint them.

OK, we’ve used the paint sprayer once on the side of our house.  I guess it worked fine.  I don’t know, I didn’t actually set it up or operate it.

So, I was going to use the sprayer to prime the boxes.

I am going to try to make this short…but my process during the day was long, irritating and in the end I think I wanted to kill someone or something.  Anything really.

So the primer was as thick as a milkshake.  The sprayer has exactly 1 million working parts.  I had to prime the sprayer.  The sprayer didn’t want to spit out the paint in any usable way.  I kept bumping the paint can and the milkshake-like paint kept spilling out.

Then the tiny moving parts in the spray head fell out of the sprayer and landed on a box in a huge heap of paint.

Really?  I just wanted to paint 6 boxes and bases and be done.

I was nowhere near done.

I’m muttering fantastic oaths under my breath, I’m standing in a pool of paint and all I want to do is paint the boxes.  The Eff-ing boxes.

So, executive decision time.  I bail on the sprayer.

I pull the feed tubes out of the paint can and dump them in a trash can.  I go out into the yard with the trash can, which is a swamp from all the rain.  I decide to run water through the sprayer and feed tubes to clear them out.  I’m spraying the sprayer into the trash can so I don’t paint the grass, or the garage or the driveway.  The sprayer actually starts to work as I’m cleaning it.

Too late.  I have my hate on for the falling-apart-not-working sprayer.  I’ll never use it again.  But I will clean it.

The garbage can starts leaking white paint water onto the lawn.  It’s not really soaking in because the lawn is so saturated with rain.  And then the paint water starts moving across the driveway toward the drain.

I think I’m going to have an aneurism.  That was the peak of my frustration.  It was all over shortly after that.  Everything clean, washed and draining.  The one million tiny parts, clean and accounted for.

This all happened in August, I think.

I was brave enough to start again yesterday.  With simple tools like a paint pad, a paint brush and drop cloths.  And it’s all fine now.  Boxes and bases 2 coated.  More ready to be painted tonight.  The simple way.

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About hellpellet

a little pellet of hell
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