The bathroom hates us. It totally, totally hates us. I suppose the same could be said for many home improvement projects, but this time I can’t help but think it’s personal. Maybe it liked the awful decor with the THREE different kinds of wallpaper, maybe the hideous testicle lights were really what made it feel special, perhaps the gigantic medicine cabinet is what it defined itself by; I don’t know.

All that I do know is that we have been thwarted at every turn. The walls are so fragile that when I removed the wallpaper tape, some of the drywall actually got damaged (which actually served to make me feel like somewhat less of a wallpaper-removal failure). Even with the approximately 65 pounds of spackle I carefully put onto each and every crack, the walls still look pretty bad. Which is accentuated nicely by the new light fixture. The medicine cabinet that I recently picked up (on sale!!!) had a crack in it AND was missing the shelves. When going to exchange it, we learned the reason for it’s reduced price: it’s extinct, well aside from the floor model, which we then bought.

The nice pedestal sink? Oh yeah, the damn sink doesn’t sit flush on the base, so it wobbles. When we took it back, it appears that ALL of them wobble. So after all of this we’re going to hire someone to install it.

(and yes, I DO realize that things could be worse. I never operated under the illusion that this job would be simple. Honestly, it’s all the things that I never would imagine would be hard that have proved to cause us the most grief)

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to weep into my towel rack.