Two botched jobs

Dear diary,

I’m in the worst mood possible. I almost began this entry with a long stream of cusswords, I’m so irate. What happened is that I got too excited about the recent progress that I’ve made on these house repairs; for I’ve been working on them every day of this week, starting Monday and continuing steadily to the day of the tragedy, which was yesterday: Evil Friday — I saw that if I continued to work fast, I could finish the last part of both remaining projects in a single morning: this appealed to me greatly, as it would allow me to be able to relax for the afternoon and enjoy my weekend. But either my hastiness resulted in reckless mistakes, or I’m simply an awful craftsman (or likely both); cuz I ruined everything. Now, not only must I still finish those same hated projects, but I must clean up and redo what I attempted.

Actually, now that I’ve written such a dire-sounding intro, I realize that the mistakes I made weren’t really that awful. If I were to read the above without knowing what had happened, I’d assume that this author must’ve, say, accidentally knocked the foundation out from beneath his house so that it slid down the hill and, in the process, smashed into all the neighborhood’s motorcars. No, it’s nothing so marvelous as that — all I did was caulk the bathroom molding sloppily. Then, in the front room, I added a transition piece that’s supposed to cover the gap between the flooring and the entryway, and it looks less than perfect. That is all. Two botched jobs.