I need a man

I'm on this mission to paint my flat out, and I've got to the stage where I need a man.

Thing is, 'til now, I've done all of this stuff myself. I haven't needed one. They'd be a nuisance.

Of the painting - I went to Bunnings, got all the materials and the right amount of paint (though I might have to get another pot of ceiling white seeing Jonella and Stav gifted me what I have and I might run a bit short)

The prep work, all done, I've sugar soaped, sanded, unscrewed, masked, spakfilla-ed everything that needed soaping, sanding, unscrewing, masking and spakfilla-ing (I love spakfilla - brilliant stuff is spakfilla - best applied with the fingers, but don't say that to too many people)

I've done a good job with the painting. The rooms look a lot better. 

There is a part of me which loves weilding the power tools - in this case it's just a small sander, which makes life so much easier. I haven't used the wooden block my stepdad cut for me in the shed the other week. Power tools give you a sense of power. I can see why men love to collect them. 

But now I need a man. 

Not that I've ever really needed a man until now. They have their uses. Killing spiders and opening those jars which I can't open (theres a mgjic doohickey you can use which makes this easy - besides, I'm normally okay opening my own jars). Occasionally they're useful for retrieving things off high shelves. Really, that's about all they are good for.

But now I need a man for two jobs. The first is to help me move my mattress back in my room and place half the couch in the spare room ready for this weekend's painting lark. 

The second, to 'snap' some screws, which are allegedly snapable, so I can put new handles on the cupboards. I can't manage to snap these things, maybe a man can.

Barney's coming over on Thursday night to help with the furniture stuff. the rest of it I've done myself - mantled and dismantling the bed is easy. Hung the curtains. Shifted all sorts of stuff - but the mattress and the couch are two people jobs. And I'm good with this. I'm admitting my limitations. 

As for the snapping of the screws - that one has got me. I can't see how most women would be able to do this. I have strong hands - I know this - and I can't manage this, and I don't like it.  What am I doing wrong. Maybe I'll take the screws home to my stepdad and he can shorten the bloody things for me. He's got every tool in Christendom in his shed.

Or maybe I should just admit that there are some things you need a man for. 

This does not sit that well.

Nevermind. Back up the ladder I go. 

Today's Song: