The law of sod...

The last week or so has been governed entirely by the law of sod.  This law dictates that what ever you do, the least expected most targeted act of sabotage will occur as if by bloody magic.

Its really been nothing too dramatic.  Starting from a tiny matter of finally ridding myself of this cold I've had for weeks, only to catch another one, and growing is size of both affect and rage... I spent 3 days decorating the family bathroom.  I've never done anything more complex than slap paint on the wall before so for me this was a learning curve and a challenge.  I used Polyfilla, silicone sealant, I used a DRILL (I am a capable woman, but I really shouldn't be left in charge of any kind of power tool) and remembered wall plugs and that little machine that detects for electric cable and water pipes. 

I'm sure some will think, so what?  But it was a big deal for me and wowzer, my bathroom looked beautiful in the end (I however have wrecked hands and I'm still trying to get gloss out of my hair). Even if I do say so myself I have a good eye for colour, and the shade of blue I chose lifts my small pokey anciet bathroom into something quite chic.

I was very smug.

I even laid floor tiles. 

5 minutes after I laid the last of these tiles, I smelled smoke/death/something not right, that went beyond the usual smell of beer brewing in the airing cupboard or the whiff of oil, and certainly was not glue or silicone.  The boiler had caught fire internally, black smoke was pouring out of the outside vent (nothing inside) so I turned it off and phoned a man who was qualified to make it right.

Nothing too dramatic.

He did his job and left.  We were expecting guests any time soon so returned to the bathroom to light candles and create that photoshoot mood so I could unashamedly show off my hard work. 

Black soot clung to every surface. Every newly painted, not-quite-dry surface.

Anyone who's cleaned up soot will know that no matter how bad it looks, when you go to wipe it, it will look (for a while) a million times worse.  It was an utter disaster.

I admit I had a mini-meltdown... on hands and knees scrubbing, a pointless task, I was simply moving around not quite dry paint and soot and making a smoothy.  Sobbing "it won't cleaaaaaan".  I think I may have wailed.  I certainly swore a LOT.  My sons learned some new words.

This I think is the Law According To Sod.  

It was NOT a good thing.

I'd love to say alls well that ends well, but happy endings aren't to be found here as its not over.  I just can't muster up the will to repaint, so it now looks like a pleasant but in need of decorating room.

Sod sod.