It’s done! Its taken 4 of us 9 days, lots of drugs, and more than a few swear words, but we’ve finally decorated our own bedroom for the first time in 7 years! And it’s gorgeous, and I love it, and its so cosy, and I want to go to bed NOW!! Only I can’t. Because my knees are currently giving me a bollocking for being determined to finish tonight & I can’t take any more drugs till 11pm. Arse. Patience is NOT one of my virtues.
Tonight as H was helping me finish the cutting in against the skirting board where I couldn’t reach, she asked “How long have you been doing this room? It feels like forever!” And it made me think.
There was a time when revamping a room would have take a day, day & a half tops. Hell, when H was 4, myself, my ex & my Dad gave H a princess room overnight on Christmas Eve so she could wake up & think Santa had done it! Two walls painted pink, curtains changed, princess desk & chair inserted, duvet cover swapped, stickers on the wardrobe, the works. We even moved the bed! She never even murmured bless her, still not quite sure how we got away with it to be honest!
Until H mentioned it tonight, I hadn’t actually thought about how long it had taken us. We have to work around our bodies allowing us to do stuff, which means it takes 3 hours & 4 rests to paint a small patch of wall, a whole morning and too many drugs to mask off edges, and H and our wonderful friend N to do the bits neither of us can reach. (Drives my OCD mad letting H do it, “careful, watch you don’t get any on the skirting, there’s too much paint on the brush, mind the carpet, get your foot off the newly fucking painted wall!!!” Bless her.)
Once upon a time it would have frustrated the shit out of me to have to take so long to do a job that takes able bodied people 2 days at the most. Now, I find I’m just grateful for the times I can do it, and even more grateful for the drugs & care that give me the small windows of opportunity to still feel like a valid, useful human being.
Maybe I have learned a little patience after all.