BathroomTherapy

I made a decision last week that I’m not going to wait for a financial backer or the landlord’s permission to start making improvements on this place, even though it’s an incredible risk to take when one doesn’t even have an official lease. Tonight, I scrubbed down the entire bathroom again in a manic explosion of discontent and looked through the photos I took of it when I first moved here; it was filthy, gross and out of date – still is in many ways. The bathroom is twice the size of the guest bedroom, and unnecessarily so. I hate its orange-stained shower and gun-metal grey walls with the mismatched counters and cupboard and wasted floor space. I’ve been using that tiny spare bedroom as a catchall for all the stuff I don’t want to deal with….This next week, I’m going to empty it out, take more photos (I haven’t touched it since I moved here), and rip up the existing Formica tile floor to prepare it for blonde bamboo. I want to do recycled wainscotted walls painted robin’s egg blue and bright chalk white below the chair rail, and install wide, heavy baseboards and scalloped crown molding, painted white to match. One of Mavis’ beautiful baroque mirrors will go over the vanity.

Tonight I went looking for a pedestal sink on ebay, and I think I found the one I’m going to save up for. And I’m going to look for a second clawfooted bathtub; I love my porch tub, and I want to keep it where it is. I’m going to aim for finishing the new bathroom before I have to start paying rent in July, and then I’m going to rip out the old gross bathroom, pull up the nasty, multi-layered floor, redo it in 6″×2″ tongue-and-groove barn flooring (the hallway, too) and make it a real, proper bedroom with captain’s portal windows.

I’ve already been ripping up the nasty 40-year-old carpet in my room starting in the back corner where no one can see, cutting it into little pieces and taking it out of the house stuffed into shopping bags; I’ve been throwing them away in tiny batches at gas stations when I fill the tank. I’ve been decoupaging the subfloor underneath with ripped up brown paper and cutout flowers from old seed and bulb catalogues, but I ran out of glue and varnish, so I have to wait to do more when I have moula.

This past week, I had a health scare. I went for a physical and ended up in the emergency room, which was followed up by a CT scan and surgery for a twisted transverse colon and a subsequent blockage. What I had thought was pancreatitis and water fasting before the start of Lent turned into a two day saga of worry, pain and multiple trips to see a surgeon. Fortunately, there were no complications, the experience didn’t interfere with work, and my followup with the surgeon revealed nothing I have to worry about. Still, it was one of those weeks that forces me to re-evaluate what I’m permitting in my life, and how much time I’ve wasted on nonsense…especially other peope’s nonsense.

I’m not waiting for life to begin again in earnest. I’m having the faerie tale, even if I have to beg borrow and steal to get it. I’m making it myself, one room and garden at a time.

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