First the fourteen year old daughter and I removed the old carpet and brought it to the garbage dump. We removed the boots and coats and crap and cleaned and vacuumed and stuff. Let me just say here that my daughter is awesome and helpful and wonderful. She also has a great sense of humor.
We laid all the tiles out in a zany random pattern (in blatant defiance of all that Martha Stewart holds dear), and I trimmed them and fitted them nice and snug. I actually managed to not cut my fingers off. I did some very difficult cutting including around the water heater and the trap door into the crawlspace. You would be truly impressed.
Then came the gluing. This glue is supposed to be applied and allowed to dry and then you stick the tiles down. It started well but ended badly. I mean I have to do it in sections to avoid stepping on glue, right? But I ended up stepping in the glue anyways, and trekking glue footprints around the house. A few clever people on Twitter suggested putting sparkles on top of the footpirnt which I admit I actually considered. I blame the fumes.
And then I actually sat down on the upturned lid of the glue tub. FML.
That was two days ago. Now I'm in PAIN.
I ask my self WHY? Why am I tiling this floor? I should be paying someone else to do it for me. I should be lying around at a spa relaxing and enjoying life.
Wait, what? ....oh yeah. I do enjoy extreme home-deco. Dang.
The floor will look awesome. The trouble with an awesome looking floor is that the rest of the room now looks like crap. Should I spruce up the rest of the room? No, because that will make the rest of the HOUSE look like crap. Solution? Retrieve the old carpeting from the garbage dump and cover the dang floor with it!
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