Obsessions, Impatience, and the Night of Caulk

I think that I’m finally catching up on my sleep. The half pot of coffee I drank this morning actually perked me up for the first time in days. God, I love legal stimulants. There should be more of them.

Since our tools were stolen a few months ago, we’ve had to resort to some low-tech techniques to get things finished. Patching the master bedroom floor is a prime example of this. I’ve become quietly obsessed with hand tools since then. I will freely admit that part of this obsession is fueled by nostalgia. My grandfather was a professional carpenter and my father (and to a lesser extent I) had inherited a number of old hand tools. I remember my father showing me how some of these were used when I was a kid, and I’ve had fondness for them ever since. Something about the smell of oiled metal, the look and feel of the wood handles, and the well worn surfaces and edges appeals to me on a sensual level. Is that tool porn?

Now, a quarter century later I’ve discovered just how useful old hand tools are. I haven’t turned into some crazed Luddite. I will admit without guilt that many modern power tools are superior to the hand-driven ones they’ve replaced. However, there are a few old tools I’d like to add to my tool box like an old hand cranked drill. A Japanese hand saw would be nice too. Unfortunately, I’ve just spent the last of my eBay money on a second faucet for the master bathroom, so I’m shit out of luck for now. Really, that is okay since I really need to caulk and paint the master bedroom ceiling this weekend.

I’d hoped to start painting the master bathroom this weekend, but the infernal humidity has ruined that plan. I know most people consider weather a neutral small-talk topic of choice, but weather has become an emotionally charged subject for me.

Earlier today a co-worker and I had the following conversation.

CW: “The weather is supposed to be beautiful this weekend.”

Me: “I don’t know. It’ll be a little too hot for my tastes.”

CW: “Well, at least it will be sunny.”

Me: “That’s just makes the humidity we’re having even worse.”

CW: (looking baffled) “You’d rather have rain?”

Me: “No. Overcast, dry, and seventy would be about perfect.”

CW: (still looking baffled)

Me: “Sorry, I have a bit of a skewed perspective.”

CW: (runs away)

I guess I still haven’t lost my freakish charm. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that everyone isn’t waiting on drywall mud to finish drying. The infernal sauna of a Southern summer just irritates me. Why can’t the forces of nature bend to my will and serve me always?

Anyhow, Saturday will probably be spent visiting family (my little sister before she goes back to Boston & my wife’s cousin’s debutant ball of sorts). Sunday we’ll work like the little slave animals we’ve made ourselves. As for to night, I’ll probably strip down to my loincloth and become the scaffold-monkey Lord of Caulk. Don’t judge me. Everyone has their own hobbies, don’t they?