Saturday, March 6, 2010

The Grand Shuffle

After weeks of work and moving things from one place to another, I finally have a home office again. Only one problem: I have a zit on my ass so big that I can't sit comfortably in a chair.

I've been trying to write a post for some time- first I took a couple stabs at writing about my new Kindle, but I couldn't get it to come together. I wrote something yesterday but it was way too personal so I won't publish it. This is, after all, the Internet. Instead I've decided to write about something which I can shout from the rooftops, which is the aforementioned ZIT.

Actually, it's not a zit. In Portuguese it would be called a furĂșnculo, or furunco, and in English it would be called a boil. The doctor I saw at 7 AM this morning, when I couldn't take it anymore and went to the hospital, called it an abcess- a word I don't like very much. He also told me to go home and do exactly what my wife had instructed me until it ripens and is ready to blow.

The really weird thing is I have a second one on my neck, although the size of it pales in comparison. I've never had two of these beasts at the same time- I don't think I've had five in my entire lifetime.

I'll be much happier when they are gone.

So that was fun. Glad I got that off my chest. I didn't actually plan to write about that at all, but I did anyways. I could just stop now, and call it a post, and publish it, and go to bed early, and read from my new Kindle. But then I'd have to change the title and rework the cryptic first paragraph, so I'll proceed.

I moved around a lot as a kid. Every couple of years or so. Not that we generally went very far, for instance we lived in four different places in one small town. One time when I was in high school we moved from the first floor to the second floor of a house. I never considered this to be traumatic, although a couple of the early moves that I don't remember probably were. I used to actually enjoy it- I'd get to pack all my stuff up in boxes so I knew exactly what I had, vacate an old space and then set up a new one with all my junk. From the beginning of college until I moved into our current house I never lived in the same place for more than nine months, with only one exception, and that was for only two years.

I contrast this to my son's experience. He'll be five at the end of the month, and he's lived in the same house his whole life. Had the same room for all that time. And so have I, sleeping in the same bedroom for five whole years. The longest stretch of my entire life. Man did those years go fast.

As 2009 drew to a close, I was began preparing for some moving around. I decided to give up the office space I'd rented for two years, which meant moving out of there. I decided to create a workshop space at the back of our house, which required more in-house shuffling and some construction. I took another office space that was much cheaper, but then the building was sold and I gave it up after only one month, so I moved (very little) in and out of there. At Carnaval time I always vacate my home office so we can turn it into a 'dorm' and fill it up with travelers, and then after Carnaval I move back in, which is always a relief as I hate to be displaced. Evani sometimes complains to me that I shouldn't have a whole room in the house devoted just to my personal pursuits, manias, and oh yeah, work, but I'm not sure she really realizes just how key it is to maintaining my sanity.

Anyhow, this year we decided I wouldn't move back into my home office. Instead, our home office would become our bedroom, and vice-versa.

This turned out to be a much more involved task than I ever could have imagined, and it's a good thing that it coincided with a (hopefully temporary) slowdown in my workload, so I could apply myself properly. Evani wanted the room painted, no problem. I used to paint professionally, so I know how it's done. Only problem is, I'm very much of a perfectionist and it needed a lot of prep, so there was at least a week of extremely dusty conditions in the room. Then I opted to personalize one of the walls with some spray paint, an idea I've been kicking around for the last year or so. That also took some doing, even though I only ended up using two cans of paint. Finally, I opted to mix all my own colors from white paint and little bottles of color called biznagas (a marvelous word) in order to save some cash. This also ended up slowing things down quite a bit.

Along with the actual painting, I did way too much of moving things in and out of this room and that room and into the back where my workshop is mostly finished and in and out of the airshaft where we sometimes stick things until I finally got a wall completed in our new room and I could start moving things into their new 'permanent' positions. Most of what I own is still hopelessly jumbled and I spend a part of every day fuming as I try to track down random errant items.

I must say it was all much more traumatic than it used to be when I was younger. I didn't get any of the thrill I used to from packing things up and moving them around- maybe because I'm older, maybe because it took almost a month to get my desk set up again so I could escape the kitchen table. And I wasn't the only one. Evani told me one evening as I was finally wrapping things up that she had changed her mind, she was too accustomed to our old room and didn't want to move any longer. I wasn't prepared to stop at that point. The person who was most excited about the whole ordeal was Lucas, he enjoyed the whole process and really wanted to hang out and watch me paint, but I wouldn't let him as I only have one respirator and it was protecting my respiratory tract, something I've gotten very paranoid about. Which brings me back to the beginning of the story, remember the furunco? No, not that one- the one on my neck. That was caused by excessive respirator use. The other one, the one that has me sitting sideways on my chair? No idea what caused that one.

So I bet you're curious how the paint job came out- well, I'll show ya. Here's the best shot I could get of the new wall with the spray paint. Flowers and butterflies was what Evani requested, so that's what I did. It's only half finished, but it will have to do for now. Here it is:


After only a couple nights in our new room, I'm already feeling very good about our decision. We have moved from the eternal drama at the front of the house, with our loud and often drunk and fighting neighbors, to the relative quiet at the back of the house. I have also craftily isolated myself from much of the in-house TV racket, but more on that in my next post, when I will answer the question what the hell is this??


I'll give you one hint: it is not Lucas' latest carpentry project. It looks exactly what it's supposed to look like.

And what is this?


That, my friends, is a self-portrait made by an almost five-year-old boy.

Now I'm gonna go read on that Kindle.

2 comments:

Fabio Bossard said...

Man, I loved room! Nice job! And melhoras about the boil. The one down there is probably due to the chemicals as well. Stop breathing that poison.

markuza said...

Thanks Fabio! Vou me melhorar rapidinho