Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Tired and Grateful

by Elizabeth

You know when you are really, really tired? Not necessarily sleepy, although that can be a part of it, but just deep down tired, like your bones need to sleep? That's how I feel right now. And I'm not even the one who really did anything.

Oh, I suppose I didn't do nothing. (Can I use that negative/negative structure? Who cares? I'm tired!) I've had some work being done at my house for the past couple of weeks, and the guys who fixed my floors and replaced baseboards and installed new tile obviously have way more right to claim exhaustion than me. Finally, yesterday, their part of the job was finally over, and my part really kicked in. Did you know that tearing out carpet and replacing it with tile means dust? A lot of dust. Stubborn, sticky, pervasive dust. Everywhere.

I armed myself with brooms, mops, microfiber cloths, spray cleaner, and went at it. And now, after a long day of tackling the dust, I am happy to report...that there's now less dust.

The good news is, the floors really look great. There was one glitch, though, and it involves...dust! Well, it sort of does: the flooring store accidentally put the wrong color grout on my contractor's truck, and no one noticed until after it was nicely set.

Instead of the chocolate-colored grout I'd selected to go with the wood-appearance tiles, they loaded up mocha. Which is, as you can see, the exact color of...dust!

Luckily for me, turns out there is a product that you can dribble into fresh grout to change its color and seal it all in one go. I'm going to tackle that project myself in the coming days. Hopefully, it will take.

In the meantime, I realize that this tiredness is really kind of a gift, dust and all. Having the good fortune to have the means to have someone else install lovely new floors, having the leisure to write fresh words while they toil in creation of dust, even the blood-tiredness I feel now after a day of attacking the by-product of that good work--it's all a reminder that being able to call writing work is really a blessing.

I'm tired, sure. It feels good to sit. Aren't I lucky? Something to remember, especially if the grout stubbornly clings to its color. Which really isn't all that bad once the actual dust is gone.
Can you believe that is tile?

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