Yesterday my kitchen floor was ripped up. No stove, dishwasher, or fridge in the kitchen. I was so looking forward to doing this so I could get my frustrations out. But no, I might have gotten hurt! HA HA HA. For some reason NOBODY has an issue of me possibly getting hurt when a 150 pound go-kart needs to be picked up. Oh well, I decided to grosss everyone out (and make some money on the side) by betting the three workers and my two kids $10 each that I could walk across all the broke up tile in the kitchen barefoot and without cutting myself or giving up. Thank you, I am $50 richer.

I was given the task of learning how to prepare a hardwood floor for staining. NOT FUN. Of course, when I was asked if I wanted to help, I said "sure". I thought I would be aloud to use a machine. But no. I basically only cleaned. This task is WORSE than the daily cleaning of a house. I was on my hands and knees, vacuming the bedroom floor very slowly so all the dust would come up from between the floor boards. Then I was given a cloth to once again go over the entire floor so any dust not picked up by the vacum would stick to this cloth. Halfway through the floor, my thoughtful husband threw me a pair of rubber gloves to wear because the cloth is so sticky, it also sticks to your hands. Then the stain was applied by my husband, with me crawling on the floor in front of him to make sure I picked up all the dust. The best part is my bedroom is DONE (except for the bathroom)!!! My furniture is back and I'm no longer sleeping in the living room.