You Can't Stop at Just One

It started out innocently enough, it seems it always does.  I went in as pure as the driven snow (relatively speaking) and came out a corrupted woman.  I wanted just a bit of a change but since I know I am weak when curbing my passions and harnessing my desires, a major transformation is almost certainly in the making.

I recognize now that I had made a huge mistake, but there was no turning back.  I passed through the portals of the mart that held mind-boggling multitudes of materials, gobs of gadgets galore, filled to the rafters, aisle after aisle of unadulterated ecstasy… the home improvement center. 

The bathroom, I thought, could use a bit of color on the walls.  This is where it all started, in the smallest room in the house.  No problemo! I will run down to the paint store, the perfect color will jump out at me, I will purchase it (along with proper accoutrements), race home for my handy-dandy honey to prove his manliness and knowledge of such activities as he joyfully devotes his Saturday to this chore and all I have to do is sit back, enjoy and go shopping for new towels.  Snap out of it! First off, you are hard-pressed to find just a paint store anymore.  Everything has gone the way of oversized, jumbo or superstore, which is good and bad.  Good because it becomes a one-stop shop, bad because you can never just walk out with one item (which is good because you are buying more which increases sales that helps the economy which supports the taxes that ultimately pay for goods and services in the community; bad on my budget as I witness deficit spending at its finest… give me time, I can justify any purchase).

The real problem is that you cannot just stop at one, inconsequential paint job.  You notice right away that the carpet looks besmirched next to the new color – that has to go.  Then you realize that the room next to the newly installed rug is dull and lifeless – presto! chango! to that room, too.  The bed linens need to be refreshed with matching, color coordinated sheets, blankets, and comforters (while you are at it, don’t forget the aforementioned towels for the bathroom).  The search for that new mattress that will lull you asleep, NASA approved, overtakes you.  It is as good of time as any to oust the old and bring in the new.  The “creep” will descend down the stairs, around corners, up the walls and into the nooks and crannies of your life.  Before you know it, what started as a half-day activity for your paramour to show his love and affection, becomes a fulltime job that consumes your every waking moment and most of your dreams at night.  This doesn’t even count the energy that one needs to accessorize and plan for new pictures, tzatzkehs and assorted sundry items to make the new, revived room look welcoming and lived in (don’t ask, it isn’t supposed to make sense).

I guess I should be happy that I am only doing cosmetic changes.  I am able to reign myself in to the parameters that are firmly anchored in place.  Some folks take on the task of deciding to add a room, enlarge a bathroom and put in new kitchens (and new counters and new cabinets and new appliances… and so on).  These are brave people who with a leap of faith and a wad of cash go where no sane person should go.  Weeks, months and years go by as the “project” never seems to be finished – only one more “this” or two more of “that” and the contractors promise it will be complete.  I don’t think the survivors of remodels are really ever who they were when they started.

Know also, that whatever you see on the Home and Garden channel and on Trading Spaces is done by “professionals” and probably should not be tried in your home.  It is what you don’t see that makes for the real story.  If you are up for it – have fun and keep your sense of humor.  If not, white walls aren’t so bad, if simply accented with some colorful new towels.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.  

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-