It has been over a week since I came down with the flu. Yesterday on the afternoon of the eighth day of my flu, I finally felt well enough to go out. I was desperate just to be out in the real world after having been cooped up in my house for the last week while I shivered, sneezed, coughed, sniffled, and sneezed some more. Giddy with my freedom from constantly sneezing, I decided to go to the tile store to look at replacement tile for our guest bathroom which sorely needs remodelling.
For someone who really knows what she likes in cars, clothing, furniture, or food, choosing a wallpaper or tile is nearly an impossible task for me. The choices are overwhelming and after a while, they all start to look alike. The added pressure of choosing tile is the extreme permanence of the material. As anyone who has ever tried it knows, removing old tile is a difficult and dusty job. Therefore, the selection of the right tile is something that must be done with great care since we are going to have to live with it for a long time.
My husband has refused to accompany me on these trips to the stores to look at potential choices for our remodelling projects. Instead, he tells me that he trusts my judgement and taste. Translation: "you do the leg work." The problem is that I don't know what my taste is in tile. I do know what is in style at the moment. Keeping that in mind, I attempt to select a few possibilities. However, when when I bring home the samples, they are invariably "not right." How can something so simple end up being so difficult?
Sometimes, I just wish that a fairy godmother of decorating would come in and waive her magic wand on my house to make it right.