In a week we will move out of our house, and a wrecking crew will come in and tear out the ceilings and floor and replace them with things that are much nicer. This has created a great deal of stress in me for months, which is well documented here. My mother is puzzled that I have not packed things up, little by little, here and there, a box in every corner, the place turned upside down (we have done some of that, which I hate).
"I want to do it all at once, so that there is only one day of chaos."
My mother is not particularly bothered by chaos, so she doesn't really understand my point of view. Rolf, who also is not bothered by chaos, totally understood, having lived with me for 24 years. He knows that having things half done for a month would drive me batty.
Two days ago we learned that the color I had selected for the floor is not available in the material we are going with (click VS sheet). The contractor sent me a very nice photo of a very tasteful grey-blue, which made me cry for two days, because I would rather be boiled in oil than have a tasteful grey floor. My mother rushed over with swatches. She knew the grey thing would break me, and had tried to beat the e-mail.
"What about doing this black and cream checkerboard?"
"I guess that would be ok, but I don't have anything black or cream and I don't really like it. I would feel like I was living in someone else's life, or in a hotel. "
"Black and white is very tasteful and classic!"
"But I am not very tasteful or classic, I like whimsy and color."
In the end I chose a buttery yellow and a slightly darker blue. Darker than the original, but not a bit of grey. I think the contractor was horrified, but I don't really care. I have to live with it, and I want to love it.