Thursday, February 09, 2006

Comedy of Errors

Comedy of Errors 2/9/2006
Good grief.

How hard can it be to hang a set of curtains?

Apparently harder than I imagined.

Of course, if I was an organized person, this would've gone swimmingly. I would've had everything measured. I would've known where everything was in the house. I would've been prepared.

yeah.

Like that'll ever happen.

First off, I decided I was going to be just so high-tech, and use Ken's laser level.

If I could find it...

I looked everywhere. Found the drywall anchors, though, that was a bonus. AND I found the new cordless drill, AND the drill bits. Another bonus. Finally had to resort to calling Ken. I think I got him in a meeting. Of course, he knew where the laser level was. If I'd been thinking, I should've been able to find it, too.

Next stop, drawing a bead on the wall, to level up the curtain rod hangers.

Now, WHERE did I put those drywall anchors? I had them IN MY HAND. Commence wandering around the house, trying to retrace my steps. Feel the time ticking away in my head. Get frantic. Isn't this SUPPOSED to be easy? Ah, there's the anchors. And the drill bits. And the curtain hardware... that'll come in handy.

Go upstairs. Get the laser level out of it's package.

Um... how does it, um, work? Futz around with it, coming >THIS< close to pointing the laser in my eyes and blinding myself. OoH! There are little needles that come shooting out the bottom to attach it to the wall when I push THIS button. Ouch. That was a close one.

Reach up to put the level on the wall. Um. I'm short. Run around the house to find a chair. Put a chair beside the bed on Ken's side. The curtains are going up on the wall by the head of the bed. I can't do it all standing on the bed (although I started off thinking I could just stand on the bed and do all the handy-man business.) Attach the level to the wall about a foot from the ceiling. Turn it on.

Ooh! There's a red line that goes across the wall! (I don't know what I was expecting, but it sure was cool). THIS deserves a picture for my diary! Get down from the chair. Find the camera. Grab the camera. Look up. Red line has vanished. Apparently, leaving the level turned on drains the batteries in a big way. I turn off the level, and turn it back on. I get about 3 seconds of red-line-on-the-wall. Repeat. 3 more seconds. I think "Hey! If I'm fast, I can turn it on, draw a mark, lather, rinse, repeat, and I won't have to go downstairs and get another set of batteries...." Yeah. That was a stupid idea. I nearly killed myself jumping from the chair to the bed, and then pulling a Spiderman off the far wall as I tried to jump AND draw a mark while bouncing off the other wall. Yeah. The stupid paint isn't even dry yet. This isn't working. Maybe new batteries?

No worries. I'll just grab some more AAA rechargeables from Ken's secret stash.... which is... EMPTY!

OK, We've got a dozen (or more) rechargeable batteries. Where are they?
Hunt around the house. This is fruitless. And I'm NOT going to bother Ken *again* over something I can't find in my cluttered disorganized mess. I'll just suck it up and keep looking.

After more fruitless minutes (wherein my armpits start to stink, because this is now beginning to stress me out), I remember that Ken keeps a secret-secret-extra-secret stash of 2 AAA batteries in his shaving kit. I pilfer those.

And I decide that I'm not really Spiderman material, so I grab another chair from the computer room for the far side of the bed.

The super-secret stash-batteries have March2003(!!!) expiry dates on them. But they work. And I'm smart and decide not to risk battery life to get a photograph (even though it would've been cool). And by now, I've got 3 different sets of pencil marks on the wall. Which ones to line up with? Oh, I'll just start a Whole New Line.

(Did I mention that the WHOLE time, Nate's underfoot, chanting "When can we go to Mollieland?" repeatedly?)

OK, finally the marks are on the wall, with big arrows by the marks that I'm ACTUALLY going to use. Time to pull out the drill/driver.

And can I say how much I love self-sinking drywall anchors?

But what are the odds that FOUR of the five marks would be Right Over The Studs?????

Argh. I can smell my pits getting stinkier by the second.

So I sink one drywall anchor, and decide that the other four screws will just go straight into the studs, and the mounting hardware will cover up the unsightly holes.

OoH! The rod-hangers are up on the wall!!! Time to take the curtain rods out of the package. Wow, these rods look short. But they open up to 158 inches. That's GOT to be wide enough....

Um, first rule of home improvement.

Measure TWICE, buy ONCE.

Yes. I bought TWO curtain rods that are 4 feet too short.

Seriously, watching me work this afternoon would've been like watching a One Woman Show of an Abbot and Costello remake. Or maybe the Three Stooges, starring me, myself, and I.

With a bit of dipsy-doodling, I've managed to put up ONE rod, which will hold the semi-sheers. And after I snag Skip, I'm going to go to Home Desperates, and pick up two pieces of dowelling, which will double as curtain rods for the linen panels at the sides. I just don't want to make the pilgrimage to IKEA for the matching rods. I might even save a bit of money by using dowels (which will be hidden in the panels, anyways. And the extra rod (that's too short for my window) will easily be wide enough for Nate's. And I haven't put up his curtains, either, so there's another project for me... seeing as I've got all the hardware and tools in one place, now.

Sheesh. Could I Make it ANY more difficult?

Oh, and I decided that I'm afraid of putting the linen in the dryer, so I'm going to hem them, and then iron them and stick them straight onto the rods. The cotton sheers came out of the dryer not quite as attractive as I'd hoped, so I'll probably run an iron over them, too. And I've gotta hem them up nearly 3 feet, too.

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