When last we met our unsung foolish protagonist, he’s was busy tormenting himself by remodeling his 50 year old bathroom. He made a foolish promise to blog about his misery but got so caught up in the insanity of the whole project that adding the extra stress of writing about it surely would have driven him over the edge. He did swear that when he was done, (and out of the asylum) he would revisit the journey and recant it as best he could if only to be a warning to others. Here is his story, it is not for the faint of heart, so reader digression is strongly advised.
It still pains me to look back to the horrible events as they transpired, but I feel that its my duty to tell the entire sordid tale so that no one else ever has to suffer such a tragedy. It all early began this year. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was winter, it fucking cold. Like the rest of you, sometimes on a cold winter’s day I’ve been known to brood and examine my pitiful existence. I came to the painful conclusion that my house was a mess and that I needed to do a better job of keeping it clean. I scoured the kitchen, and vacuumed the floor and cleaned the tub and came down stairs and stared in horror. The place that I spent the majority life, my sanctuary, my oasis, was actually hell. I was in my basement, and it was like a scene from a horror film.
I immediately knew what had to be done. I had dreaded this moment ever since I’d renovated my kitchen a decade earlier, the open scars still fresh. I would transform my nightmarish hell into the paradise of my dreams. I knew that it would take every ounce of my willpower, not to mention my limited skill, to create my masterpiece. I began in earnest planning great extravagances such as studded insulated walls, drywall, stylish laminate flooring and even wall outlets too numerous to count not to mention lighting. Yes it was all quickly coming to light and soon I would begin my bold journey into the new millennium. It was happening so fast that before I knew it, I had to pee. To this day I still can’t fathom why, but some strange force compelled me to use the upstairs bathroom rather than the one ten steps away. It would be a decision that would change my life forever.
I walked into bathroom and began the all to familiar ritual of well…peeing. As I stood there, shaking of the remnants of my handiwork, the shocking revelation came forth. I would not be renovating hell. Oh no, not today. Not any time soon. I had no choice but to renovate what had become the monstrosity previously known as my bathroom. I warn you in advance to look away if you must at its hideousness, but as I said earlier, the story must be told. Here is what I saw.
And turned around and saw this
And then this
And it began spinning into a vortex of despair. I knew what I’d have to do and I wept.
to be continued….
foolsmusings 
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