Manolo says, it is Tuesday and you are back at your desk contemplating the topic of human folly, to be more specific the folly inherent in the do-it-yourself improvement of the home project.
Back in the January, the repainting of your kitchen seemed like such the good idea, the project of the single weekend: strip the old wallpaper from the walls, paint everything in the moderately neutral color, and be done with it.
Ah, such innocence. Such blissful, happy, youthful innocence.
Now, here it is, nearly March, and the project is still not done. The walls are painted, but the doors of the cabinets languish in the garage, their absence mocking you each morning as you enter the kitchen.
“What were you thinking,” they say, their tiny wooden voices whispering to you, “you’re a loser at home repairs! You can’t even unstop the toilet without soaking the floor.”
You try to ignore them, telling yourself that this weekend you will fix them, but good.
But it is too late, your morning coffee tastes bitter, and you feel the weight of failure heavy upon your soul. Your drive to the office has become the commute of shame and self-loathing, all because it took you three weeks to find exactly the right shade of off-white in glossy finish.
What is needed now are two things, the name of the good handyman, and the super fantastically, good-humored shoes from the interwebs!