Sweat Equity

I have no fingerprints. I wore them all off with the sandpaper. At work, all I can think about is getting home so I can do more sanding on my drum. But my fingers are sore and I've worn holes in them. And triceps? Didn't know I had any until this week, because they ache. My friend accused me of being obsessed. I can't argue. But yo, I'm making progress. Finished stave 21 tonight which means I'm three-quarters of the way around for my first pass. All the other passes will be slices of cake. And thank goodness I'm using a dust mask. My downstairs neighbor must think I'm insane. I run the vacuum cleaner every now and then to suck up the dust because I figure if most of it is in the machine, then I'm not breathing it. My Dad said it was good I was investing "sweat equity" into the drum because then I'd have a better appreciation of it. Boy am I appreciating this drum. Or rather, I think it's appreciating me. It better be.

I can just smell stave 28. It's calling my name. It's just those gosh-darn stains that are taunting me. I really hope this oxalic acid thing does the trick. If not, I may not have fingers by the time I'm done sanding those suckers out.

Ack. Tired. Another day, another stave. Gotta. Sleep.