House painting

I hate painting. I hate it with a passion normally reserved for Brussels sprouts and Enya albums. I hate it more than listening to Brian Lally commentating on a GAA match. I hate it more than I hate the Late Late Show. More than I hate bad hip-hop. More than I hate having an itchy scalp on a hot sweaty day.

More than boils. More than piles. More than fake smiles.

That’s how much I hate painting the house and yet I still do it.

Why? Because I’m stupid. That’s why. Because every time I decide to paint the house, I’ve forgotten what an absolute shit I made of it the last time.

House painting

I am the world’s worst painter and I know it well. I’m terrible. Police should come and arrest me if I’m seen with a roller in my hand. Militia should taser me. Snipers should terminate me with extreme prejudice.

As a painter, I’m a disgrace. I bring shame to the world of incompetent painters. Bad painters point at me and say, Well, I can’t be worse than him.

I’m shit.

I can’t work the paint into the little woodwork details. I can’t cut in the colours between the ceiling and the wall. I can’t decorate anything without leaving a slather of paint across the walls, the floors, the furniture and any hapless animal that wanders past.

I can’t paint anything without painting everything else around it as well.

I’m the world’s worst painter, and yet here I am, failing once again to learn from experience.

Will I ever learn?

9 thoughts on “House painting

  1. You need to go back to basics. Start with your nails (fingers) and then nails (toes). Start slow. Don’t use so much paint (nail polish). Feel free to make a mistake, wipe it clean and start again. Its all about precision, self-control, and patience. That’s the secret to painting*.

    * As told to me (I paraphrase) by my 5 year old daughter on the day I too ranted about painting and how much I hated it. One really can’t fault the Montessori nursery teachers she’s had for four years.

  2. the worst is you can’t do one room and finish at that. Once the first dab of undercoat goes on you just know every weekend for the next ten weeks is fucked.

  3. Mr. Bock, the “Undercoat” is a euphemism for painting over the first coat of which you have made a dogs bollocks and when you need to disguise your mistakes, it is commonly reserved for telling her indoors that all painting needs a primer before it can be done properly…..

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