Oh, people. Why do some home projects have to be so mother-effing hard? This bathroom business has just been a long, drawn out mess.
Today was the day - floor was finished yesterday, allowing us to clean up grout residue, install toilet and vanity, tack on some trim, and do anything and everything else possible.
Husband left to get some ... something or other. I stayed home to clean up the grout leftovers and get our tile squeaky, shiny clean. WRONG. Instead, I freaked out because the solution smeared a bit of grout around on the tile, then called husband freaking out, only to get scolded for leaving the cleaner on the new tile.
Things settled down and we decided to install the vanity. But there were no instructions. And the granite counter needed to be treated. Run to Lowe's. Google instructions. Fine, fine, fine. But when we (by we I mean my husband) started to put the faucet together in the vanity top, we (this time I mean we) realized the plastic piece that fits under the faucet was the wrong piece. Thanks, Moen Quality Assurance Team.
With some elbow grease and crude box cutter skills, we made a flap so the drain pull could move smoothly. Yay, okay things are on track! WRONG. Drain pipe, which was standard size, isn't long enough. Husband goes to Home Depot to get the right size. I go to the gym so I don't murder him or anyone else nearby. Come home to find out some screw up repeatedly backed into his car as he was waiting to get out of the parking lot.
Hi, a-hole, lay off the meth. When someone is A) behind you; B) honking at you and motioning; C) can't back up because there are people/cars/whatever behind him that means something. Even more adorable is that when husband parked his car to pound on man's window to get him to stop HE HAD NO IDEA WHAT WAS GOING ON.
A series of apparently uncouth, ambiguous exchanges followed, and MY F*CKING HUSBAND DIDN'T GET ANY OF THE MAN'S INFORMATION because there was no damage to either car.
Whatever. Hi, you're dumb, as many men often are, but let's move on. So we did (after I spazzed a few more times).
Then the blade needed to cut the pipe/trim/something/whatever broke in husband's hand. He had to go out. Again. I reminded him to drive safe.
This leaves us with a working toilet (Yay!), semi-installed vanity (Blah!), mirror still in the box (No!), fixtures/accessories still in the bags (Guh.), and painted-but-not-nailed trim approximately (Eff it.) 12 hours before I need to take him to the airport to leave for three weeks again. But it does look pretty already, doesn't it?
And we'd been having so much fun together this weekend, up until this day ...
(You gotta be kidding me. At "press time" I was notified that the back splash would not fit behind the faucet, and the vanity counter top could not be pulled forward enough to make room behind it. Anyone want a slab of beige granite?)
