I’m renovating my master bathroom.
“Master bathroom” sounds awfully fancy, like there’s room for a helicopter pad in there. I assure you there is only room for a sink, a shower, and a loo. And a towel rack. But it’s my sink, shower, loo, and towel rack and dammit, I deserve to enjoy them all while standing on tile that isn’t cracked. When I got my condo, both bathrooms were clearly quick fix, Home-Depot’s-havin-a-sale, let’s-move-this-unit jobbies, and a few months back I decided it was high time I do something about it. The cabinet under the sink is (was) this icky laminate and over time, the sprays, soaps, and powders from my morning toilette took their toll. ‘Twas getting a bit sticky, you see, and no amount of 409 could help it.
The bathroom is’a gonna be’a sweet. The sink is getting downsized. The shower is getting upsized. The tile will be custom; small white squares with an inlaid black Greek key thingy that will run from the floor into the shower and back. And I’m wallpapering, which might sound cray, but it can be done with the proper treatment. The zebras up there? That’s my wallpaper. It’s made by a company called Scalamandre and that’s half the reason I like it. I say it all the time with lusty flair when I walk past the sample tacked to the wall: “ScalaMANDRE!” and I gesture like an Italian.*
The work has begun and boy is it weird have three big, sweaty dudes in my house. I notice it most at lunchtime when they bring out their sandwiches and cans of pop. They all sit down on buckets in the cordoned off portion of the main room and they’re just in there, munching and talking about the game, the girl, or the government. I work at home, but we’ll see if that will remain to be true. I may have to do a coffee shop tour of Chicago for awhile; when they start cutting tile, I might start biting my nails. Which certainly won’t do. I have to save those. I have to save them because as soon as they finish the bathroom?
The kitchen reno starts.
*That is a ridiculous thing to say.