(Narrator: Ladies and gentlemen, this isn’t so much a story, rather it’s a cautionary tale about the foolish decisions we make while quarantined during a world-wide pandemic. We will file this under, ‘How Quickly We Forget.’)
DAY 1: This might be my best idea yet! It’s going to be beyond amazing. A painted door is so expected! Who wants a painted door, anyway? And what glorious weather! Thank you dear Lord for gracing us with such beauty. What a perfect setting for me to create. Life at this moment — sheer perfection.
DAY 1 (afternoon): You know rustic is in fashion. Maybe all that blue, green, and white left over paint doesn’t look so bad? What are your thoughts on just leaving it like this?
DAY 2: There is no end in sight. Whose stupid idea was this anyway? All I’m doing is sanding. Any more and I’m certain our door will be as thin as a sheet. The dog will surely be able to run right through it. And the scraping. So much scraping. Little Jesus make it stop.
DAY 3: What the hell do you mean ‘fine sanding?’ All I have been doing is sanding. You mean there’s more sanding? I’m just ready to make it pretty.
DAY 3 (afternoon): I’m in the third circle of hell. (What do you think it means when I’m trying my hardest to blow away the dust while wearing a face mask? Why won’t this shit blow away?!)
DAY 4: I’m blowing dust particles out of my noise and my throat is scratchy. Is that you ‘rona? I’m sure of it. I’m contemplating the idea of living without a front door.
DAY 5: FUCK THIS SHIT.
DAY 6: Brian is so supportive. Although he tells me shit I do not want to hear like — you can’t just leave all this rough wood sticking up, and no Mel we can’t just leave it unfinished — but I know he’s right. He rallies the troops. One more push! Hang in there Mel we’re almost there!
DAY 7: I’m dead inside but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m also super nervous that the end product is going to look horrible. I have no idea what I’m doing. Whose dumb idea was this? I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM DOING.
DAY 7 (afternoon): I have children, don’t I? Where are our kids? Is everyone okay? What day is it? Have you eaten? What’s your current life status, small people? You want dinner? Okay but mom and dad have to go back and hang the goddam door up again. Yes, again.
DAY 8: I cannot contain my glee! It’s beyond amazing!! I knew it! WE ARE SO DAMN SMART. We make such a good team. I never had a single doubt! Whatever the past few days was like — it wasn’t so bad — it was totally and completely worth it!
(NARRATOR: And just like that friends, she instantly forgot everything that happened during days 1-7. She was clearly drunk with satisfaction. While she was blissfully enjoying the fruits of their labor, without hesitation she applied the first coat of strip-ez to the back door…)
This originally appeared on Facebook at Melanie Forstall – Stories of Life, Love, and Mothering Join me over there for more!