Tuesday, February 19, 2008

The Bungalow of Perdition

Somewhere in the vicinity of Dante’s Seventh Circle of Hell is The Bungalow of Perdition. This is a special hell for obsessive types. It’s unspeakable.

If you want to torture a perfectionist, I mean really torture them, stick them in a badly painted room with a can of Pratt and Lambert and a linty roller. Come back three days later and you will find them writhing in agony and sanding miniscule bumps off the ceiling.

In a funny coincidence, just yesterday I was sanding miniscule bumps off my own ceiling (I have a sander that hooks up to a shop vac so there is no dust!). Of course, I realize that this is a bit over-the-top, hence there was some rather spirited self-talk in the process.

This is ridiculous. I need to get down off this ladder and walk away… Oh. My. Gawd! That crack over there! Where is my Dremmel tool???… Just put the sandpaper down already… OK, just this one more little bump… and this one…

In my defense, I have to say that the people who owned this house before me (bless their hearts, etc.) were not exactly crack home-maintenance types. I imagine it was they who are responsible for the very sloppy paint jobs that are the source of my torment. I’m serious. They painted over EVERYTHING. Door knobs, switchplates, lint… I fully expect to come across a spider, sealed forever in mid-skulk in some LaBrea tar pit of cheery yellow latex.

Anyone remember the old décor idea of jamming candles into an empty bottle of Chianti and letting the wax drip down the sides? Yeah. That’s about what my walls look like (at least through the filter of my obsessive personality). Seriously, they are drippy. And don’t get me started on the trim. I’m mystified that anyone could do such a bad job. Were they wasted? Grossly sight impared?? Why, God, WHY???

I was reminded of a conversation that X and I had a long time ago with our very excellent therapist, Margie:

Margie: “So, you’re a bit of a perfectionist then.”
“I hardly think so”, scoff I.
Margie looks at me quizzically.
“Well, if I were a perfectionist, wouldn’t everything I did be perfect??”
Margie and X exchange glances.

There is a little known legend about Vampires that they are obsessive counters. I have often wondered if someone at the Children’s Television Workshop knew this or if it was just Sesame Street Serendipity that they came up with Count Count. Anwyay, folklore says that if a vampire were to come upon a bag of rice, it would have to count every grain before resuming pursuit of its now long-gone victim. Me? I can be suitably paralyzed with that can of Pratt & Lambert.

Anyway, I gotta go. Lots of sanding to do. My god, these people were savages.

9 comments:

Oh, The Joys said...

Gurl, you are TEH CRAYGEE.

bzybead said...

what color will the ceiling be? what finish? will it match the trim? are you going to strip and sand the trim. luckily for you, there are many places that you can stop before you are certified.

liv said...

DOOOOOD!!!!! are we the same person? i spent yesterday sanding and priming my dining room! freaky!

fooped said...

Liv, Perhaps we can get a discount on some meds if we buy in bulk...

I should add to my diatribe on wall-prep - another way to drive an obsessive person crazy is to offer five thousand shades of the same color, each one a nano-hue different from the next.

If you need me, I'll be in the fetal position behind the couch.

Chicky Chicky Baby said...

How do you feel about the random piece of pet hair getting stuck in the wet paint?

That thought is driving you mad, isn't it?

fooped said...

ChickyChicky - get out of my BRAIN!!! GAAAAHHHHH!!!

On the other hand, it wouldn't feel like it was mine if it didn't have dog hair all over it...

phenom said...

I'll take "People who are never allowed in my kitchen for $600, Alex."

drip... drip... drip...

I am a horrible painter. I also hate Hate HATE wallpapering. Our style is more of the "wall-worn-from-couch-being-too-close-to-it." :)

Ms. E said...

Darling I needed you...I once started painting my condo, and never finished. I mean never! 5 years down the line, condo up for sale, I was looking to hire a painter. I need that kind of tenacity, oh I'm sorry...I mean perfectionism.

Ponygirl said...

I got a sweet deal on my last apartment because the couple who lived there watched a little too much HGTV and sloppily painted everything a different (hideous) color. The landlord didn't want to pay to have the place painted again, and no one wanted that apartment. I paid a painter some money to return everything to a tasteful creamy color and lived there in bliss for hundreds of dollars a month under market rate.

By the way, the apt was on the market because said couple broke up right after doing all that painting. They must have stood back, looked at the results and realized theirs was an unholy union.