Well, I was hoping to be 100% done with the bathroom by tomorrow, but alas! Actually, I was hoping to be 100% done with the bathroom by the first of August, so there’s that.
I really don’t mind doing home improvement projects for the first 60% of the time it takes me. In fact, I kind of enjoy it. The problem is that the whole project generally takes me 40% longer to finish than I anticipate. So I’m fine for the first part that I had geared myself up for, then every moment after that, I just can’t wait for it to be over.
If I ever clad a bathroom mirror again (and I am not planning to. Or at least the mental measurements I made of my scraps to see if I had enough to do the basement bathroom mirror were just that: mental measurements, not actual calculations, so they don’t count.), I wouldn’t take any short cuts. I didn’t think I was taking short cuts this time, but I think the idea of gluing pieces individually to the mirror instead of joining the full frame first is a short cut and a bad one. Next time I would glue the pieces together and back-staple them first, then glue the whole thing on in one piece. Which is to say, I’m not 100% satisfied with how this project is turning out. I wanted perfection, and I’m going to have to settle for pretty darn good. Boooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The point is that I kept having nightmares that I had ingested the toxic mirror glue until I finally went to sleep in Flufferella’s room to get some more space between me and the mirror. Fluffy’s room reminded me that I’m being too hard on myself. Her molding is not perfect either, but her room looks stunning. Besides, I might be the only person on earth who notices the imperfections–and I don’t even notice them any more! They’ve actually gone out of my mind. So I’m looking forward to the day when any imperfections in the master bath mirror don’t punch me in the face everytime I look at it.
Speaking of which, Kent and I took the kids to Saturday morning cartoons at Mosaic District a couple of weeks ago. We bought a bunch of sugar at Target and then settled down on our picnic blankets in front of the big outdoor screen to watch The Flintstones and Scooby Doo. Both of us were surprised that even nostalgia did not make them watchable. We lasted only a few minutes before we were both madly checking our phones.
Me: This show is literally repelling my eyes. I keep trying to force myself to watch it, but I can’t keep my eyes on it.
Kent: I know. I can’t believe I used to love The Flintstones and Scooby Doo. I thought they were so funny. It’s just so bad.
Meanwhile our children’s three sets of eyes were glued with the power of Liquid Nails to the big screen. Who could the mummy in the museum possibly be, Shaggy?