There isn't much time left to watch paint dry. The table needs to be done sooner than later, so we can get it set up downstairs before the Wednesday game. In fact, it needs to be carried downstairs before Wednesday morning. I need to stay up late tonight, doing as much painting as I possibly can, so that the paint has a hope in hell of curing in time, before I set it on the carpet. Some bits are completely done. Some need help. Some haven't been started at all, like the quarter-round trim. Theoretically, enough has been done that we can use the table, but it sure would have been nice to present it as a fait accompli. The good news is that most of the people in that group know me well, and have seen me show up at events in a half-sewn dress, or have been given Christmas presents that are actually just raw materials and a promise. That we will have a table big enough to fit all nine of us in one giant rectangle of game play is going to be good enough for this week. Next week I'll worry about having the exterior trim fashioned, painted, and attached. (There isn't a stock trim in 1 1/4" widths at Lowe's. I'm going to rip down a 1 x 4, and sand the edges into a tiny curve. I don't see any other way. I also don't have time for it, not while the Mr and T are stressing about T's rotted subfloor under where his sink used to be, and how much moldy plaster they have to remove above it before the cabinets arrive next week.)
I had better get back at it. My hands are covered in black paint, so much so that none of my devices' fingerprint readers recognize me. I'd rather finish this up and scrub my hands just the once, rather than removing layers upon layers of skin six times over. I'll be up past midnight (not unusual) and up early to finish up (only mildly unusual). I should have my kitchen back to usable by mid-afternoon, and maybe have the sawdust and drop cloths removed before sundown. If I'm lucky, I'll have the whole thing set up and adorned before the gang arrives on Wednesday.
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