Two steps forward and one step back

 Two steps forward and one step back is still progress. 

I am in the process of moving out of my home of nearly 36 years. It is difficult physically and emotionally. 

I decided to hire someone to paint. My son had started with the hallway; some friends came and helped me finish the living room (all but one accent wall that we thought was fine. Spoiler alert: it wasn't.)

The kitchen and both bathrooms are still great from a remodel a few years back- we had the left over paint for touch ups here and there.

That left the three bedrooms that desperately needed painting, and one closet that really needed cleaning and then painting.

I decided I would hire painters. Yes, it's costly but so is my mental health and my relationship with friends and family.

When the movers came, and we took out the piano, we discovered that the living room accent wall was in fact NOT FINE and would also need painting.

Add that to the list for the painters.

Then a day or so later as I was dragging stuff from the basement to the side of the road, a friend drives by and stops and chats.

I'd been meaning to talk to him, as he knows about building maintenance (it's his job, actually). So I asked if he knew any painters. He said, sure, he could probably help me out. 

So we set up a meeting, he looked at what needed to be done, and said yep, he could do it. 

I said, wait, what you? 

He said sure.

I said okay, let's talk schedule and price. The clock is ticking and I need to get this listed.

He said he could start Monday if I got the paint. 

I said, and how much would you charge?

He said, I won't charge you. I'm doing this for you. I can do this.

He cautioned me that he did have a class two times a week, and of course he has his full time job. He could come after work, about 2:30 most days.

Great! Unbelievable! 

We met that Monday, I had the paint, he had the equipment, he got started. 

That was nearly two weeks ago. Two of the three bedrooms have been cut in, but that is all that has happened.

I have myself cleaned and painted the closet. Today I'm painting the living room accent wall.

I have to find a friendly, kind, and positive way of asking if he'll be able to get to the bedrooms this week. Because otherwise, I need to hire someone. 

Truly.

I have to get out of this house. For my emotional and mental health. And my financial health.

a mixed day

Yesterday, we had a full day planned.

We went to Detroit and saw two shows. We saw Cyrano de Bergerac at the Hilberry Theater in the afternoon and then saw Alfred de Musset's Fantasio in the renovated Studio Theater in the evening. The drive into Detroit had some snow covered and slippery roads, but Dear Husband K managed just fine.

The Cyrano was missing some spark- somehow the direction allowed it to be both somewhat slow moving and also managed to rush over/miss some of the moment to moment nuance and comedy. Still, it was a competent production.

I am turning over in my mind the showing of Fantasio. Several of my students were in the production. I think show was again competent; I would have to read the script, which I am not certain that I like, to see how well the director captured- or did not- the style of the play.

I also chafe every time I read the apologia of a note on the "PhD Student Series". This blurb has been implemented since I have graduated from the program and basically boils down to advising (warning? reassuring?) the theater goer that these are PhD student directors, under the careful supervision and guidance of the faculty - you can almost hear the subtext "no undergrad actors were harmed in the making of this show."

In my experience, there have been several Studio PhD shows that were as well directed, acted and/or designed as any of the shows upstairs- with a lot less money and time invested in them.

ANYWAY

We drove home- and the roads were fine.

Then we found that one of the dogs had shit in the bedroom where they had spent the day. (which one? DH K thought it was Jackson, because he'd seen Jasper poop outside before we left; I was pretty sure based on the poop's appearance that it was Jasper).

Now, we have left the dogs home alone for this long or longer with no such accident.

GRRR.... DH K took the dogs outside, and I cleaned up the poop, washed the floor, sprayed odor neutralizing spray, burned a candle- in short, everything was as it should be when DH K came back upstairs with the dogs.

So we curled up and watched Jimmy Fallon host SNL - a rerun, but with some good moments. Off to bed.

Then at about 1:30 a.m. I woke to dogs pacing and a HORRIBLE stench. DH K did not wake. I grumbled and turned on lights.

DH K did not wake up.

I kicked out both dogs.

I cleaned up the poop soup from the floor on DH K's side of the room, on my hands and knees, an operation using two toilet flushes, a bag full of paper towels.

DH K did not wake up.

I got out the mop and mopped all of that floor. I sprayed odor neutralizer. I lit another candle.

DH K did not wake up.

I stripped naked, took a shower, washed my hair, changed my pajamas, let in the dogs.

DH K did not wake up.

I grumbled (loudly, I thought): I can't BELIEVE you are sleeping through all this!

DH K did not wake up.

I continued to grumble, If this happens AGAIN, I swear, I am leaving it for you to clean and moving into another room to sleep!

DH K did not wake up.

I read for another hour, since I couldn't go back to sleep.

DH K did not wake up.

So, finally, around 3:00 A.M. I go to sleep.

I wake up around 4:00 A.M. hearing a dog pacing. I LEAP out of bed.

This time DH K awakes as I turn on the light, and rush the dogs outside. In time. I notice the dance Jasper is doing, and that once outside, it is Jasper who does the poop crouch while Jackson dashes off to seek bunnies to tear apart.

As I come upstairs, I grumble, You are really lucky I got them out in time. I can't believe you slept through it the first time.

What? says DH K.

I can't believe you slept through it! The dog shit all over the floor! Horrible stink! Your side of the room! I cleaned, I mopped, I showered! I can't believe you slept through it!

I'm sorry, says DH K.

I say, well, you can let them in. And if it happens again, I am TOTALLY going in the other bedroom.

So DH K brings in the dogs, I go to sleep.

Around 5:00 A.M. I awake to a horrible stench.

That better be a fart, I declare. I turn on the light.

DH K wakes up.

I scout. There it is, poop-sprayed floor on DH K's side of the room. DAMN IT!

DH K (because he likes being married to me) says, I will clean it.

He takes the dogs outside for the rest of the night-morning, and starts cleaning but I CANNOT BREATH and it is too hot under the covers so I light a scented candle and I still CANNOT BREATH and so I get up and move to another bedroom for the remainder of the night-morning.

Let's hope we've gotten all the shit out of the way for today- or for the week- or the month-