Suzy Says

Before

It’s a lovely, sunny Saturday. It seemed like a good day to paint the wall. You know, the one with the flash heater outside and strange, convoluted piping. I should have known better than to start any project during the reign of terror of the comma*, when I tend to be at my crabbiest and least patient – I should have spent the day lying on the couch, watching Marilyn movies, eating PopTarts, bemoaning the utter uselessness of ibuprophen and wondering why everyone acts as if it’s the answer to everything – but I am a) a slow learner; and b) not all that smart. Though I’m apparently the queen of lengthy sentences.

I assembled my appropriately named quart of paint, a brush, a piece of cardboard, painter’s tape, and a small step stool. I figured it would just take an hour or two, easy. In this, as in many things, I was wrong. Fortunately, Rob stopped by to point out the error of my painting ways, such as:

• Don’t wear sandals.
• Use a real ladder, not a step stool.
• Don’t hold the can of paint while you’re painting. Pour some of it into something smaller, in case you Calamity Suzy it.
• It’s a good idea to measure the wall before you buy the paint. That way you’ll actually have enough. Imagine.
• I should have primed the wall first. Oh, well.
• Clean off the spider webs and dirt before applying painter’s tape.
• Yes, it is gross.

  And I thought I’d done so well in picking out a nice color and telling the guy it was for an exterior. I’m convinced that this, among many other things, is in that grown-up manual I never got.

  It soon became apparent that a quart would not be enough, especially when painting this weird chipboard stuff, which lived up to its name by chipping and peeling at every opportunity. It’s also thirstier than F. Scott Fitzgerald after a particularly grueling day of screenwriting.

  While I was swearing and daubing, Rob removed the bright aluminum thing from the top of the flash heater and is spray painting it for me. He also removed the decaying lattice over the bathroom window and rerouted and hid whatever that yellow cord was on the wood part of the wall.

  While we were doing that, Star was escaping from Rob’s backyard, bounding into the middle of the proceedings, annoying Audrey and making her puff up to about six times her size. She clawed and hissed at Star until Rob tied Star up. Audrey sat just out of range, giving Star the stinkiest stink eye you’ve ever seen. Audrey has become much more territorial in this post-June world, and now growls and claws at any dog she sees.

  I’ve used up all the paint, so I can’t post an “after” picture until I go to town and get more paint (don’t hold your breath). But here’s a “during” photo:

  

  *I’m not calling it a period anymore, because that suggests an end to something. Whereas a comma suggests a series of things, possibly even an unending series of things, which is the way things seem to be going.