Last week my husband decided to repair our hall bathroom. The area where the wallboard meets the 60s, pink tile had developed a hole. We’ve gone around and around trying to agree on how to update this tiny space. For years I’ve talked about replacing the tub with an old fashion one, with the shower pipe high overhead and a curtain that surrounds the whole tub, topping the look off with subway tiles around the area. I thought it would be so cute. My husband told me that it would be a logistical nightmare to clean. He had the same type of setup in an apartment and hated it. I had that same situation in an apartment and loved it.

I finally felt like I was nearing a win, until I asked my best friend. When she sided with my husband I knew all my hopes and dreams were dashed. She’s done many remodel projects and told me if the bathroom was bigger, I could have gotten away with it, but it is an itty bitty bathroom and I can’t make it bigger by putting in a claw foot tub. My soul left the building or at least the bathroom and I gave up. My daughter urged me to pick myself up by the bootstraps and at least spruce it up. Thus, my husband’s repair on the bathroom wall. The pink tile stays.

I brilliantly decided since he was doing the bathroom, I should paint the dining room, living room and hallway. It’s been years since I did it, I don’t even think my youngest was born yet. There were many holes in the walls because of all the pictures I’ve hung and rehung, added and eliminated. It really needed brightening up.

Unfortunately, I didn’t remember how much I hated painting until after I’d bought the paint and taped off the hallway. That’s all I accomplished one day. The next day I determined I’d not only paint the hallway, but the dining room and maybe even the living room. As I started actually painting, the gravity of the situation came crashing down and in the stress of it all, the Halloween candy may have been breached.

I begrudgingly worked on the end of the hallway, holding back despair that I may have to do a second coat. I tried getting a similar color just so I wouldn’t need to. Why couldn’t I have just paid extra for the paint/primer stuff? I realized, or remembered, many things about myself while I worked: I hate painting, I’m not good at painting, and I’m a messy painter. All those realizations dropped me further into gloom as I struggled to keep the carpet clean.

Why did I think I could do it? I have done many remodel projects over the years, not the least of which was painting. It took me 11 years to get all the wallpaper off the wall after the second owners of the house thought it was a good look in order to flip it, and I’ve become the queen at living in small spaces. But I’m many years older than I was and my hatred for painting has only increased.

After I finished the end of the hallway, I ate lunch and wrote this while the paint dried. It looked like I wouldn’t have to do a second coat, then I picked up the phone and called a handyman to see if he could save me from myself and finish the job at a reasonable rate. The cavalry is on its way, the Halloween candy is gone. Did I mention how much I hate painting?

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing on her website livingwithgleigh.com, or follow her on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh by Gretchen Leigh. Her column is always available at maplevalleyreporter.com under the Life section.