why my new bathroom is on my office floor

it's sitting next to my rose-tinted glasses

Hey there, friend!

Remember when I talked about peanut butter problems? How a simple task explodes into 9,487 steps, each one sticky and impossible to navigate?

Well, there's a flip side to that particular sandwich.

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Screen shot of social post that reads: "My 3yo said she wanted to be an astronaut, and I said she had to study hard, go to college, learn a lot of science, and take a physical fitness test, and she shrugged and said 'That's just 4 things.' So she's basically a nonchalant motivational speaker." I don’t know who the author is…her name is blotted out in the image I found.

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That kid is channeling my strawberry jelly mindset.

Only my brain rarely jumps to four things.

Four is way too many things.

Usually, it's three:

1. Conceive of the project

2. Immediately plan and purchase everything for the project

3. Start and finish the project exactly when I think I will

And by the time I’ve thought of the thing, I've already checked the first one off the list.

So it’s really just a list of two things...

I can’t stop now…I'm practically done, for the love of Oreos!!

🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷

I don't think this unbounded optimism is Dunning-Kruger—or Freddie Kruger for that matter —just waiting to destroy my dreams.

It's more like instead of trudging through peanut butter, I’m gliding along on jelly.

There’s no drowning in decision fatigue and overwhelm.

Everything’s just clear. Every step, every connection, every solution—all obvious and simple.

Just a straight path from idea to completion.

Like when I decided to replace my bathroom sink.

My house was built in 1948, when women were apparently up, fully dressed, and fixing the family breakfast before anyone else needed to use the bathroom.

B&W still shot from “Leave it to Beaver” of June Cleaver in the kitchen prepping some kind of food. Wearing pearls of course, as one does for doing chores.

Certainly, the designers did not envision two people needing to brush their teeth at the same time. The bathroom is tiny and has no storage.

When we moved in, I replaced the pedestal sink with a shallow vanity and a sink, which seemed like a great idea. And maybe it would be if the design was a bit different.

But as it stands, the faucet is offset from the drain which means it doesn't self-rinse. I am forever cleaning soap scum off the drain.

It's very annoying, but I lived with it for more than a decade.

Until it got too annoying and I had ENOUGH:

✅ Project Conceived: REPLACE THE SINK

So I started planning.

The limiting factor was the space I had for the basin.

It took a while, but I finally found one that met my criteria: an overflow drain, a faucet centered in the back of the sink, and the proper depth for the vanity.

I found the perfect sized countertop—all I needed to do was seal it.

I did the math. I drew up plans. (Engineering degree ftw!)

I ordered all the things and stacked them neatly in my office until I could do the project.

✅✅ Project Planned & Materials Purchased

Only one step left.

That was…um…

Let’s just say, that was many months ago.

🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷

Here's the thing about my sink project enthusiasm:

I know exactly what needs to be done.

I know I can do it in a day.

I even built into my plan sealing the wooden countertop IN ADVANCE.

This has been my downfall.

I need a couple of days to prep the countertop, between coats of paint and sanding.

But I need to do that outside because we don't have proper ventilation (or space) inside.

What my optimistic planning didn't account for is the fact that I need "the perfect weekend" to align with "the perfect weather" to make it all happen.

And somehow, that perfect alignment never materializes.

Either the weather is perfect, but we have three birthday parties, a deadline, and company coming...

Or our calendar is miraculously empty but it's pouring rain, freezing cold, or so humid the sealer would never dry.

So the sink, the faucet, the vanity top, and the fancy water-resistant paint sit in my office.

But it’s been so long that I don’t really see them anymore.

They've become part of the office landscape, like a modern art installation titled "Bathroom Dreams Deferred."

GIF from “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” of Frank impersonaing an art snob pointing at modern art saying “Derivative”

This is a different flavor of ADHD challenge than the peanut butter paralysis.

It's not that I can't do the project or that I'm overwhelmed by the steps.

It's that once the momentum gets interrupted, getting it back becomes weirdly difficult.

The materials are not out of sight…sometimes I even shove them around to get into the closet.*

But they’re still out of mind.

So even if I get a weekend of perfect weather and a clear calendar, I’ll forget entirely about the countertop.

At least I will until Sunday night when I’m rage scrubbing toothpaste scum again.

🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷

The reality is, sometimes our weirdly wired brains create these strange situations that many people just don't understand.

"Why don't you just do it?" they ask innocently, as if the answer were that simple.

If you struggle with the shame of not having an answer to this question, unfortunately I don’t have one that makes sense to neurotypical people.

But I do have a bathroom sink living in my office, so I see you.

Eventually I’ll get the project done.

Or not.

I mean, nothing says "I'm a creative thinker" like a porcelain basin doubling as a paper organizer as a backdrop to my video calls.

So…what half-finished project is currently doubling as decor in your home or office? Let me know I'm not alone in my "aspirational fixtures" situation! ✨

Till next time,

Kristen

*My office closet deserves it’s own post, since it’s basically a time capsule of my enthusiastic-but-short-lived endeavors.