“Like watching paint dry.”
Going by that idiom, you would think that stripping paint might be the polar opposite to watching it dry.
“Woo! Woo! Let’s strip paint! Good times!”
Um, nope. Turns out it’s actually an even more unpleasant experience. I got first hand knowledge today, laying on my back with a cascade of burgundy antifouling paint raining all around me. Arms aching from holding the scraper in a contortionists pose. Frozen lumpy ground penetrating through the thin, ugly blue tarp into my thighs and back. Feet perched on a snowbank. The only position for my head has me staring directly into the sun of a winter afternoon. I can’t see my work. In fact, the only thing I can see clearly is my breath.
‘Me’, ‘Myself’, and ‘I’ are debating our sanity together. (At this point, the author wishes to inform readers that anti-foul bottom paint is toxic and one should always wear a respirator to avoid the side effects – like hallucinations, or, talking to yourself, among other things…)
Part of ‘Me’ is making an argument for quitting early today. It’s all about Me. “Stephen, I’m cold. Maybe you should wait another week until better springlike conditions show themselves. It’s warm in the house, you know.”
“We were just in there, for lunch. Focus, guy.”
Another part speaks up: ‘I’ always has something to complain about. “I’s tired, Mohan. Your scrapah’ is dull, Mohan. Stop and sharpen it. Take five, Mohan. I needs anotha’ break.”
“It’s sharp. I’ve got the blood on my fingers to prove it.”
And then, there’s ‘Myself’. He’s a pain, that one. I need to take care of Myself. I always need to pamper Myself. “Take a break. Go make yourself another cup of tea. Put your feet up. Maybe a short nap…”
“BE QUIET, all of You! I’m going to finish this job!”
I attempt to ignore their banter. I push on, but now I queue up some music to drown our their quibbling. Janes Addiction: ‘Idiot’s Rule’ pipes up. I get into it. That’s better. The scraper dances along. Oh, that trumpet!
“Hey! Did you know that’s Flea from Red Hot Chili Peppers on the trumpet? Doesn’t that sound great?! Let’s get this done, brother!”
I’ll listen to that last fellow. Listening to him, I could keep going all day long…