Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Darth Vader meets Super Sander 2000

Regardless of how much I frighten small children (or rather, Lisa) I thoroughly enjoy wearing a respirator while sanding hardwood floors. In other words I don't want lung cancer.

There are few things that feel more rewarding than a hard day of work. When you are actually physically exhausted, yet still triumphant as you look back at what you accomplished. It truly is a great feeling. For instance, Lisa freaking ripped out about 500 square feet of carpet by her lonesome hoss-like self. I sanded the entire upstairs and stairwell - 3 times - today. I mean, boo- f'in-yah. I think I had forgotten what hard labor felt like - and it feels great. Tomorrow is going to hella cleaning day as we attempt to finish the stairs and get every speck of dust out of the bedrooms and hallway to get ready for the polyfinish that will go on this weekend.
Did I mention that the bathrooms are done? Tiled, sealed, and fixtures installed. All they need is a fresh coat of paint and some speed board.

It is interesting how I consider myself more of a 'mechanical' techie. I geek out in RP, CNC equipment, engines, and general gadgetry - yet am much more competent and knowledgeable about construction than I realize. I guess those lessons with my stepfather stuck after all. He was a badass carpenter, and while I would hesitate to say that I posses even a fraction of his skills he at least taught me how to correctly use my available tools to their fullest, how to solve a problem, and most importantly how to hammer a nail in straight. I think this is the first time in about, oh say, my life, that I can honestly say, "Thanks Dad". As I fix the cabinets, install the sink, and attach the counter trim I actually think of him with a remote sense of fondness.

I really would like new dance shoes. My old Aris Allens are seriously falling apart. I think they finally wore through in four places on the sides, and the support is pretty much completely gone. But, there is something about how the suede has broken in that keeps me from getting a new pair. It is that perfect smoothness that lets you feel the floor, slide when you want to, and grip when you don't. Broken in dance soles are probably in my top ten favorite things in life. But, now that I am dancing at least three times a week I suppose I owe it to my feet to get new shoes - and maybe see if I can transfer the suede.

My life as a middle school teacher starts in about a week. I am still going through some certification paperwork and such formalities, but I can unofficially say that I am now hired at Snellville Middle School as a Tech Ed teacher. My first full-time 'real world' job out of school and damn it feels good. I can pay off all my debt in a matter of months, start a savings account, fix my car, and eat healthy food. Granted, I have been told over and over again how much I will hate teaching that age group, and how much it will suck, but I don't care. I didn't ask for your negativity and if you would like to crap all over my excitement about actually using my college education to teach tech ed in public school then you can just suck my left toe.

Ok, now that is out of the way . . .

I am off to the Graveyard for some live music, dancing, and fantastic beer. I think I will get something on tap tonight.



p.s. The neighborhood think that Lisa and I are lovers and Sosh is our swinger bf that we keep around to spice things up. Honestly, our next door neighbors (who actually know us) telling us that story at 11am made the rest of my day totally and completely amazing. And I am not making this up.

1 comment:

Breanna said...

Best story ever! That's the kind that you milk for all it's worth.