A Festival of Feeling Sorry For Myself

I could have titled this post ‘Sunday Night Fitness Blogging, Delayed: Payback Week’, but I can’t remember as far back as last Monday, or what I might have done in the gym.   No, wait, I went on Tuesday because on Wednesday I was aching.  Yes: I ran some intervals and lifted some pretty heavy stuff.  The highlight was my foray to the leg-press machine since all the free-weights space was taken.  I did a few sets of ten 80kg leg-presses and my arse might as well have been clamped in a vice on Wednesday for all the movement it could manage.

Then there was Thursday.  Ah, what a day.  I worked, then raced home to pick up K-man’s prescription following a self-induced last minute emergency panic need.  Then, I raced to the gym and ran 45 minutes on the treadmill.  Including warm-up and cool-down I covered 8km.  I realised half-way through that my fluid intake for the day had been a cup of coffee and a cup of tea.  Then I raced home, bathed for 30 seconds in our pitiful bathroom, and raced around to the family planning clinic (for we are masters of self-induced last minute emergency panic needs in this house).  I waited around forty minutes for my COC (ha!) pills and then ambled back home.  I ate a pizza at about 8.45pm.  What would Mistress Krista do?  Not this.

We took a very frivolous decision to go visit my parents for the long weekend, so I ran around packing before falling into bed to lie awake all night.   On Friday, I worked a full day, and spent cumulatively over seven hours traveling.  In one day I took two overland trains, five tube trains, and two buses.

Sunday was payback day.  My body cursed my foolhardy ways, threw a tantrum, and sulked in the corner.  It’s still grumbling under its breath about how abusive I am, but I forced it to work because nothing fills me with dread more than being sick in a house where I have to remove two All-Purpose Polish Tradesman from a door-less bathroom every time I need to use it.

On the bathroom front, things are looking up.

The tiling is nearly finished, and the mind-bendingly expensive Fired Earth border tiles look good.  Better, even, than I’d expected.  We lasted ages with no discernible changes other than the odd bit of pipe sticking up from the floor where there had previously been none.  Then, as though someone had flicked a switch, very visible stuff started happening very quickly.  That’s the kind of DIY I can get behind.

Functionality-based progress is sorely lacking, however.  I’m still filling the damned cistern by hand, I haven’t had a bathroom sink for two and a half weeks, and I burned myself on the hot tap trying to wash too quickly in the bath because the shower still isn’t ready.  The All-Purpose Polish Tradesman usually arrives between 7.30am and 7.45am, inching daily closer to my own personal yelling thresh-hold of 7.30am.  This morning, it was 7.32am.  There is no way this job will get finished on time.

The cracks are beginning to show not only in my sanity, but also in the All-Purpose Polish Tradesman’s competence.  Clearly, he plumbed in the shower-tray the wrong way around.  Clearly, he should have ordered the floor tiles four weeks ago when we told him what we wanted, and not waited until now when they are out of stock.  Clearly, he should not have ‘forgotten’ what size of door opening was required.  Clearly he did not need to act like it was a national emergency that we obtain paint that VERY DAY, so he could leave it untouched in the tin for the next 48 hours.

But the end is in sight.  After much deliberation, K-man and I agreed on a colour for the walls.  Green, I say, through gritted teeth.  But a nice green.  If I hate it, we will paint over the expensive paint with more expensive paint and his wallet won’t have shit to say about it either.

I will get my act together soon: there are forthcoming posts on Gay Paris, Canada, Academia, a good book I’m reading, and my forthcoming bridesmaid experience in a wedding in Spain.

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9 Responses to “A Festival of Feeling Sorry For Myself”


  1. 1 Jenn @ Juggling Life September 1, 2010 at 9:38 pm

    A good motto for home remodeling is “It’s always darkest before the dawn.”

  2. 2 Smalltown Mom September 1, 2010 at 10:20 pm

    My husband and I can never agree on a color so it’s always white. And then we still have to agree on which white, but that’s not such a marriage-threatening decision.

  3. 3 trash September 1, 2010 at 11:07 pm

    hahaha COC pills hahahahaha.

  4. 4 cardinal September 2, 2010 at 5:28 am

    You are very brave to have any shade of green, after the eye-burning color that was there before. I’m sure it will be lovely when it’s finished.

    Your Polish worker reminds me of a Hungarian man who did some kitchen cabinetry for me. I came home to the most crooked, crazy cupboards you can imagine. Turns out he liked to drink as much as work. (Perhaps I should have heeded the signs when hiring him: do not hire woodworker with missing thumb from saw accident.)

    • 5 nic September 2, 2010 at 1:47 pm

      I am beginning to think K-man is hardwired to green. Many moons ago, I asked him to go and buy cream paint and he came back with a green shade. He didn’t mishear, which was my immediate question: he honestly thought the paint was cream. It was very slightly green, but green. He didn’t believe me until we painted it on.

      @ Jenn – thanks :) I need some new mantras. This morning the Tradesman admitted it will take until the middle of next week to finish the job.

  5. 6 kellyg September 2, 2010 at 2:23 pm

    So how did you and K-man agree on the green tile (which I really like, btw)?

    Green is my favorite color. And I’m always fighting the urge to make everything in the house green. I don’t want to end up with a house like the one my husband and I still call the “Pepto House”. When we were house hunting many years ago, we walked through a foreclosure house. The house would have been a steal for that neighborhood but we just couldn’t over the fact that everything in the house was some shade of pink — carpet, walls, appliances, sinks, bath tubs, toilets, window coverings. Unfortunately, neither of us particularly like pink. Yes, we probably could have lived with the pink for a while, but it would have meant years of replacing/rehabbing to get rid of the pink.

  6. 7 Jonathan September 4, 2010 at 5:49 pm

    I think your bathroom is looking fantastic – certainly better than our downstairs one, that will eventually suck the rest of the house into it’s evil self Poltergeist style.

    I am dreading the re-decorate that will happen in our house when the kids have grown up… god knows how we will ever afford it (and it will do doubt be completed by all manner of Polish handy men).

  7. 8 Nic September 5, 2010 at 7:42 pm

    @ Kellyg: the green tile was also a hard-lost battle on my part. I wanted red, but I was overruled on the basis that it risked looking like a smear of blood. It’s not that I dislike green exactly, but I think you can have too much of it. And I’d been traumatised by the previous green. I laughed at the pepto-house – we had one room of full pink in this place and we lived with it for a few months. I couldn’t have coped with a whole house either.

    @ Jonathan: Thanks. We’ve gone down the path of doing a bit at a time, as and when we can afford it. The thing is, some of the jobs are so big (entire house re-skimmed) that we literally can’t comprehend it. That, and the bathroom, are things we need to save for. It is never-ending! It leaves you not wanting to do anything because you’ll have to pay money just to watch it be undone in a year or two when you’ve saved up the cash for the really big job.

  8. 9 Suzanne September 6, 2010 at 3:02 am

    It’s shaping up nicely! I love the tile!! Sorry about the shower tray…isn’t there some way to get him to correct his mistake and re-plumb it now, before the floor tiles go in and everything is really finished? It’s his error, so he should fix it at no additional charge to you. Tell him I said so!


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