If you’re looking for smooth tips for the best paint job on your next room…do yourself a favor and ignore these steps. But if you’re looking for a laugh, well…enjoy a couple from my mistakes.
Step 1: You should absolutely base your decision to start painting on the Memorial Day paint sale at your local hardware store. Breathe in the limited time offer and breathe out all rational and practical reasoning.
Step 2: Time your trip to the paint store for a day when you’re running so late for church that you decide it would be just as well to take the whole family out paint shopping instead. Such sound logic. I’m sure your subsequent irresponsible paint buying decisions will have nothing to do with your two boys swiping paint swatches like they’re 100 dollar bills, and running circles around the aisles.
Step 3: Have a basic idea of what color you want, but allow your final decision to be irrationally swayed by the name of the paint color. I mean really, what isn’t in a name? A rose by any other name may smell as sweet but just doesn’t sound as satisfying. (In this case, I chose Cafe Royal- which purports to be a fancy warm brown coffee, but is actually a stupid peach coffee wannabe. Look at its smug little face…)
Step 4: Go headstrong and buy not just one, but two, full gallons there on the spot. No need to test anything! That sale won’t last forever! Tell yourself sample paints are for indecisive wimps.
Step 5: Stop at an entirely different store to buy rollers and paint trays because surely its less expensive there. (Except it isn’t.)
Step 6: Start painting your wall excitedly and without taping off anything. You might want to have a wet paper towel or twenty on standby.
Step 7: Allow your heart to sink as the paint dries and the uninvited peach tone rears its ugly head against your green contrast wall.
Step 8: Spend up to a day or two in denial with your project unfinished, telling yourself that you will probably like it eventually. Maybe. Yes? Um….holy crap, nope…its the worst decision you’ve made since that time you thought it would be “fun” to swim across that lake one summer.
Step 9: Research all the ways to change your paint color and stumble upon a website suggesting you take your paint back and have it re-tinted.
Step 10: Because you’re super embarrassed, take your paint to a completely new paint store to have THEM re-tint your paint so no one has rehash your idiotic purchase from the other day. They will tell you they don’t even sell the brand of paint you bought, and politely but definitively send you on your way.
Step 11: Visit the original paint store and explain your self-created sob story. Watch in rapture as they take your desired color and miraculously tint your former paint into a slightly darker and gloriously less peachy version. Only bring one of your boys with you this time. Make a note to yourself that normal people don’t get additional tint numbers hand-written on their paint cans.
Step 12: In your excitement and because you’ve totally learned your lesson about on the spot purchases of FULL paint gallons, spontaneously snag a sample can of historical blue to try on your stair wall. When you get home, immediately slather on an unreasonably large sample despite your unfinished first project and your recent propensity for shoddy decision making.
Step 13: Repaint your dining room and kitchen and possibly take a selfie of your sexy paint clothes in the process. Finally admit to yourself how deeply offended you are at Cafe Royal as a color (who does she think she is??), and enjoy the new re-tinted look.
Step 14: Since you only needed one gallon of paint for your project after all, have a lightbulb moment and take the other gallon of awful peachy paint to be retinted a whole new color…like maybe burnt orange?
Step 15: Learn the hard truth that while the paint lady can make your paint darker, she’s not a bona fide miracle worker. No, she cannot turn your peachy tan into orange. Would you settle for a warm gray? Decide to buy that historical blue color after all, only to discover the sale is over. Where is the justice?
Step 16: Return home refusing to do the math as to how much that stupid sale cost you. Finish repainting the trim of your first project with a very thick, glossy can of old paint. Optional: Lay out some pictures that you might want to hang to complete your project if you can lure a friend over to help. Make an obnoxious number of jokes about her coming to help you “find some studs”. (Friend, if you’re reading this, I’m admitting I’ve over-done it.)
Step 17: Enjoy your finished project but instead of moving onto painting the stairs, why don’t you just let that blue blob hang there for awhile as a stark warning against future impulse buys. Although, there is a sale on that couch…