10.03.2010

Remodeling via the 90's

I finished coat #3 of mud on the ceiling today, thinking very uncharitable thoughts about whichever previous owner did such shoddy work. It’s taken almost a full box of mud to even out the horror of mismatched drywall seams and insane texture. A full box, for less than 10 square feet of ceiling. But, I like working with my hands. It’s satisfying, making ugly things disappear.

While working, I listened to old mix CD’s on an old stereo, both recently resurrected from my now-empty storage unit. Three notes in, and I was 17 again-- no, 15-- no, 22. I forgot to pay attention to the work I was doing, forgot everything but how to breathe through my nose while treading memories.

I wandered through the edges of highschool today, with a smattering of college thrown in. I listened to a midnight roadtrip, heard boxes packed for a cross-country move, and sang of climbing out my window to smoke clove cigarettes on the roof.

I’m exhausted. Mudding isn’t hard work, but the time travel wrung me right out.

4 comments:

  1. Hi:
    Stopping by on the NaBloWriMo tour! I like this post; you write well. :)

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  2. I loved this! Fall is certainly one of those transitional times when it's easy to fall through the thin places of time, isn't it? All it takes is a song...

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  3. Time traveling makes the mundane so much more doable :) Enjoyed this post.

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