Dusty Impatience

I’ve been talking about building a bathroom for the upper level of my apartment for so long that even I was sick of hearing about it. After meeting with nearly half a dozen architects, I was so unimpressed I assumed I’d meet with the next dozen parsing each one for an idea and then draw the plans on my own. Then I found a *fabulous* gay couple and hired them.

Picking out the tiles for a 5 by 7 bathroom is daunting. I’m not sure the last time you have gone to a tile place but the choices are overwhelming. My gay crew helped me actually make a decision after one day of visiting several tile shops, not an easy feat as I’ve been debating what type of drain to buy for at least a week.

The entire renovation process reminds me of my mom. We designed my downstairs bathroom after at least five trips to the tile stores. She loved decorating, remodeling, renovating and had definitive opinions that she would share even when unprompted. Perhaps this is why I do not trust my taste. And so I defer to my architects on everything.

They did advise me to buy the round drain when the contractor suggested I splurge on a square one. Normally I would call my mom, get an answer in about twelve seconds and then return to gossiping. My father is afraid to give me advice and frankly, I find his taste a bit bland.

I did however choose a contractor swiftly, based upon a friend’s recommendation. A commercial contractor, he is building my bathroom at an impressive pace. And because of my insistence on constructing immediately, I am living in a work zone. Until now it has been manageable but today’s dust quotient is challenging. I left the windows open upstairs but I do not know if that will create more dust or less.

Throughout all of this my husband has been on the sidelines, having not seen a tile or blueprint. He was traveling the first three days of construction and was surprised to return to a real work site. The apartment is surprisingly livable, again without factoring in the dust particles floating in the air today (were they there all along and I was less sensitive?)

One contractor had advised me to move out when we do the construction, obviously I did not hire him. I was just too impatient. And here I am now, sitting in my lower level on the bed wishing I could use more of the upstairs.

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