Drywall

About 5 years ago a pipe in the ceiling of my bathroom started leaking. A small leak. The easiest solution was to cut a hole in the ceiling so water dripped through instead of soaking the drywall and putting a cup to catch it. It was a slow enough leak that the cup filled up only about every two days. This was a pretty acceptable solution to me mostly because actually fixing the leak wasn't trivial. Because of how the pipe ran, I needed to tear open the wall and the ceiling to replace the 90 degree angle where the leak originated. If I was going to rip up that much wall I might as well rip all of it out as the finish had been ruined by wallpaper. If I was going to rip all of it out I probably should replace the 20 year old bathtub that was on it's last legs.   I had small children and wasn't ready for the bathroom downtime that would be necessary to get all of this done. It's our only bathroom. People need to poop.
That was the logic that left us with a leaky ceiling for two years. The cup worked well, but when we went on vacation I had to rig up an elaborate slide made of packing tape so the water would drain into the sink. Two years. How I'm still married is a mystery. Finally the enamel wore so thin on the bathtub that bare steel was showing through. You just couldn't clean it and even I knew things had progressed too far. So about two years ago I replaced the bathtub and all of the drywall around it. In a burst of energy I finished and painted the drywall in that little alcove and replaced the tub surround. We could bathe. I was exhausted.
It took me about 6 months to recover enough to replace the rest of the drywall in the bathroom. I managed to put the first coat of mud on before I again needed months of recuperation. I would occasionally do just a little sanding, but it was just so dusty and drywall dust makes everyone have to poop. Did I mention that this is our only bathroom? My wife spent one summer with the washer and dryer moved into the center of the bathroom at the very edge of their cords so she could finish the seams behind them. She is a saint. Other than that, for the last 18 months, nothing, until the last 4 days. She was gone for business and I had evenings free. Nobody to wake up and poop when I made dust. One last push of energy. Four years after the leak started, I'm ready to paint. Not too shabby.
Finishing drywall is one of those things. I hate it and I love it. There's nothing fun about putting the mud on or sanding it off. It's hot, it's dusty, you have to wear a dust mask and you still end up with white boogers for a day. I know that professionals can do it in 2-3 coats, so when it takes me 6 to get the same results, I'm very aware of how much I suck at it.
But man, there's nothing quite like putting on that first coat of primer and seeing the walls look flawless. Just smooth from floor to ceiling with no indication of where the seams or the screws are. It looks like the wall has just organically grown there, flat and perfect from corner to corner. It has a sense of accomplishment. I did that. I made it perfect. Or I screwed it up. Either way, there is an objective standard. Did I make it smooth or didn't I? Can you see the seams or can't you. Did I do this job well?
Even though I hate doing it, I love that it gives me a real measure of myself as a man and my abilities. I am a very very slow, and capable man.