Futility Now

I was really tired of my office being bright blue, so over the break we did something about it. First we painted the middles of all the walls a sort of nondescript tan. After that there was a beautiful vision in which we would strip and stain all the wood, but basically the stripper was so toxic we gave it up. Even the curtailed version of the plan in which we only stripped the floor molding was pretty exhausting, probably more unctuous than all of the subsequent painting combined.

Then we masked things off, which actually looked pretty cool on its own.

Then there was the painting of the dark portions. I think it turned out pretty well.

And that’s good, because it ended up being pretty crazy. We actually finished on the 31st, just in time to put on more appropriate Champagne-drinking outfits, which is good because boy howdy.

For me the process of setting up house is pretty new. There was a very short-lived attempt at it once, almost a decade ago. Even creating my own spaces has been primarily a matter trying to minimize the impact of objects so I can have a little nest to crawl into and hide.

Hazel is not really so much of this disposition. She’s definitely more of the home-making type. These things are important to her, so she’s a good influence. I guess mostly my contribution to this side of things is that I can carry so much more than she can, and when we first got here and had rank upon rank of boxes littering the floor, this was not a contribution to be sneezed at.

Thankfully the initial phase of this process came to a fairly successful close yesterday, with the acquisition of a pretty dramatic couch. Behold!

We also have a normal-person bed, if by “normal person” you understand me to mean “guy who is 6’4″.

It’s a nice contrast to my office space, which could definitely be considered midget-friendly.

(Why the fuck is there a five Pound note on the floor under my desk?)

In stark contrast to my previous apartment, there are separate sinks for the kitchen and the bathroom. I’m pretty sure that this is now how I define luxury (and probably means I need a new theme song.)

Stairs!

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Bonus image of the Polaroid wall under construction.