>Pool Pity


This week flitted by without making me blink, until last night.

We decided not to repaint the pool until next fall/spring. Devastated, I debated with Tennis Fiend for over an hour until we reached the point where he said, “If you really want it repainted this season, we will.” Naturally, I replied, “No, you’re right, let’s wait.” Sigh.

The conflict arose from his new work responsibilities, which thwarted our DIY pool renovation plans. To finish the job, we must hire someone and that will be expensive. I will dearly miss the pool. Full moon evenings and fireworks will be less glorious without it to reflect serene and festive lights. Hot desert afternoons will be more oppressive and summer parties will lack the much-loved riotousness of Marco Polo and bellyflops.

Most of all, I will miss the concept of a finished pool. Few things are more odious than major projects left undone for months on end. It reminds me too much of my parents. At my folk’s house, under every sink lives a cluster of bleach bottles, but lurking elsewhere, uncompleted household projects burgeon. I remember my high school days, when our family cooked on a single burner stove from Kmart for three years after the demise of Mom’s favorite GE range.

The perfect replacement could not be easily found. When finally located, the fancy gas range sat in the garage for a year until the perfect installation specialist was located. Recently, my folks spent a year without carpeting. The house could not be re-carpeted until the cement floor was properly sterilized (a two-week exercise in OCD ecstasy).

After seven months of living with bare cement floors, I dragged my mother to the carpet store and bought them the carpeting required to finish the job. I made sure to have the workers come the very next day and requested an army of furniture movers, not wanting to leave room for a single excuse or delay. Despite the new carpeting, Mom and Dad have still not moved back into their bedroom, preferring to sleep on a floor-bound decrepit mattress in the TV room.

Yes, you guessed it—they must buy the perfect bed before moving back into their old room. Sheesh. So, that’s why the idea of leaving the pool unfinished for a year freaks me out. Ultimately, I realize that waiting is the best policy. I am resigned to the postponement of our project, although I’m still feeling a bit sorry for myself. I think a Tim Burton movie marathon is in order.

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