If You Decide To Paint the Sunroom: A Cautionary Tale

If you decide to paint the sunroom, you're going to have to take down the curtains and blinds.

When you take down the curtains and blinds, you're going to find that not all of the window trim is intact, and some of it doesn't even exist. You'll also see that none of the windows are completely straight, so blinds don't fit well. For a while, you won't have any window treatments, and your neighbors will get to know you quite well.

That's when you'll decide to frost the windows.

When you decide to frost the windows, you're going to need a dust mask, and white powder is going to blanket everything in the room. You'll have to keep a designated pair of shoes out there, so you don't track toxic dust into the house, and the dog will be afraid to walk through the room to get outside, so you'll have to carry him. The windows will look great, though, and you can finally get around to painting.

When you finally start to paint the sunroom, you'll notice what looks like water damage near the floor. You'll have to pull the carpet back to inspect. There won't be water damage (thank God!), but you will notice cracks and breakage in the subfloor. You'll need to rip up the carpet to fix it. Luckily, you were already planning to take up the carpet, so you go ahead and throw the carpet outside until the next trash day.

That's when it'll snow. In lower Alabama. For the first time in God knows how long.

When it snows (okay, ices) in lower Alabama for the first time in God knows how long, the trash schedule will be thrown completely out of whack, and you'll end up with wet, mildewing carpet on your courtyard for three weeks. It's okay, though, because the neighbor's cat will love to use it as a scratching post. At least now you can lay down the new floor.

When you go to lay down the new floor, you're going to find that it doesn't completely fill in the gap that the carpet left between the subfloor and the wall. When that happens, you're probably going to curse a bit, and then go to Lowe's to get transition pieces. While you're there, you can pick up that window trim you're going to need, some drywall tape and mud, and pick out a new light fixture and ceiling fan for the sunroom. You'll probably waste the remainder of the time you could have been working in the sunroom, but at least you'll have escaped the fumes from the window frost for a bit.

Once you have the transition pieces and window trim, you're going to realize that you can't use any of it until you've painted the walls. That's when you'll finally slap on the first coat of paint.

When you slap on the first coat of paint, it will become apparant that you'll need at least two more coats. That's when you'll have to go to Walmart to get another gallon.

When you get to Walmart, you'll find that everyone in the paint department is on lunch. While you're waiting, you'll notice that pool tables are on sale. You'll spend the next fifteen minutes on your phone, trying to see if you can get one delivered. You won't be able to, but the diversion will keep you from snapping. Eventually, a very nice, albeit disgruntled, manager will come and mix up your paint, and you can go home.

When you get home, you'll start painting again. Somewhere between the second and third coats, you'll discuss the possibilty of re-enacting The Shining with the chihuahua and his toys. That's when you'll realize that the fumes have gotten to you, and you'll open the outside door to let in some fresh air.

When you open the outside door to let in some fresh air, you're going to look out onto your patio and notice that it's uneven.

And when you notice the patio's uneven, you're going to want to level it.

And when you want to level it...

...you're going to admit that you need help and call a licensed professional to come out to your home and do it properly.

The End.