Mini-You-Know Redux

I did it, okay? I put on the second coat of mini-you-know.

First, I almost forgot. Honestly. But then I remembered and I almost just decided not to do it – which I feel no need to verify, because I imagine it’s a little easier for you-all to believe. Seriously, I looked at the sink with the finally-dry you-know, and I thought to myself “Eh, one coat is probably good enough.”

But then I thought, what if it fails? What if, in a week or a month or a year or however long is not long enough for you-know to fail, it fails? Pulls away from the wall, or allows water to get through, or just generally crumbles into dust? How will I know, then, whether it’s because the product’s faulty or because I did a shoddy job? (Of course, I suppose it could be because I am generally Destructo, but there’s nothing to be done about that now.)

So I finished it.

It was harder this time, if only because I knew it was the final-final so I was trying to be careful and therefore ballsing it up more than when I didn’t care if I made a holy mess. I’m good like that. But I got it done, and for all intents and purposes it looks exactly the same as it did before.

(Not before I started it, of course – there would be much more pooping and swearing and trashing the peace here if that were the case – but before I went ahead and did the second coat. If you see it – if you saw it before (or, rather, during, I suppose) and if you see it now – you can tell the difference, but not in a picture. Or not in any picture I can take, at least.)

So when I finished, I ran out to the living room to fetch and demand kudos from the only other creature on the planet besides me who will have seen this project up-close in all three of its stages. I found, instead, this mélangey snooze-a-rama on the couch:

He caught the crud. The bigger one, I mean. The less-hairy fellow. On the left. But he’s going to work this morning anyway. Because he’s nowhere near as big a baby about being sick as I am. And I am. I am a ba-by.

But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t really, really sick. I was. Still am, in fact.

cough-cough?