Day Two--Saturday

I’m still sick. But I take lots of Tylenol and soon forget about my aches and pains. There’s work to be done! And my Mom and Dad are making me do it since they came all this way to do work themselves. Yesterday we had almost every floor sanded (that’s the living room, dining room, and 2 upstairs bedrooms). I wanted to have the third bedroom floor sanded, but unlike the rest of the house the hardwood floor in this room was probably 50 years old instead of ten, and it had all kinds of grease smeared and the boards were uneven and missing/broken, etc. I convinced my parents we should try to sand it anyway; despite their yelling at me that I never believe anything they say. Well, they were right (I guess). The sand paper kept breaking since there was so much grease on the floor, and apparently that costs extra money—the more sand paper you use from Home Depot, the more they charge you. So we had to leave that room unsanded for now, and I’ll have to figure out what to do about it later.

The other thing that held us back was that the fuse kept blowing when we turned on the sander for some reason and then all the electricy went dead. I never did quite figure out what all that was about. I’m not sure what I was doing, looking back. I was very hopped up on medicine.

Oh, yeah, and the edger sander that my parents brought with them (they actually own one) broke and I had to go to Home Depot and rent another.

So, finally, we get the sanding finished and it’s time to put the first coat of polyurethane on. Oh, no, I almost forgot—first we had to get the excess sand off the floors by mopping them using just a little bit of water, let them dry completely, and then we began to apply the polyurethane.

And that’s when I began to feel a lot better. How pretty!! I couldn’t believe how nice these floors were turning out. It was like magic. I could finally sigh a sigh of relief.

While my Mom and I were sanding, mopping, and brushing the polyurethane on, my Dad was playing plumber in the bathroom. My bathroom is very small and the first thing I needed to do was get rid of the hideous cabinet sink that took up way too much room. After much debate, we had decided to get a new sink that attaches to the wall instead of a pedestal sink. (Actually, I had originally bought a pedestal sink off of some nasty woman on Craigslist, but she lied and said it was in perfect condition and ready to go. It was not--the fixtures were all bent and screwed up, so they wouldn't attach to anything. I tried to take it back to her, but she said "I got what I paid for". the bitch.)

So my Dad was hooking up my new bathroom sink for me! Yay! What a hero he is. Except that after 4 hours of listening to him holler and scream about the bleeping people (previous owners) who glued tile to the drywall, all I was left with was a hole in the wall and a sink that still didn’t work. It seems that there weren’t any studs in the wall so there was nothing for which to attach the sink. If he could have nailed the sink to air, his plan may have worked.

I swear it was his idea to get the wall sink and not the pedestal sink, so why was he giving ME dirty looks? I was the one without a sink.

It was late and my parents were tired and had to go home. So I spent the rest of the night by myself applying the polyurethane. (If you don’t open the windows, you will get a buzz going from this slimy stuff.)