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Sometimes projects go awry. Sometimes they leave you feeling defeated. Sometimes you look at the utter chaos that they create around you and just sigh, curl up in bed, and refuse to finish the project.
This is what happened with me and my master bathroom. I was so gung ho about getting the wallpaper off, putting that first coat of mud on the walls, and getting it to a smooth finish. But then I just started dreading the project altogether. I started watching TV, lazy-ing about (for me, “lazy” is a verb, something one does), and altogether avoiding the rest of the project. I started hating it.
I don’t like that I get into these bouts of feeling defeated by a completely inanimate thing that I know that I have total control over. It didn’t happen to me. I did it to myself. And then I wallow, and I get stuck.
And then somehow, I snap back out. Not sure what causes it entirely, but it never fails. I get disgusted enough with the mess that I’ve created, throw the laundry in the wash (or in a laundry basket, whatever gets it off the floor) and attack it once again with renewed energy.
Maybe it’s the sheer hatred of seeing the project unfinished again. The magical fairy elves from Disaster DIY didn’t show up last night, so I guess I’ve gotta roll up my sleeves and do it. So then I do. And then I feel proud that I took one step further.
And then the cycle starts all over again. More coming up tomorrow, including some progress on
the bane of my existence these damn walls.