I had no plans for today, in fact I half thought I'd go do some Christmas shopping but then I remembered the grout pens. The ones I bought two months ago. For painting the grout in the bathroom that is tiled floor to ceiling. I mean, I know better, but just the same every time I get a notion in my head the little evil voice within me always whispers sweet sweet lies. Like "this will be a quick and easy job. You will be done in half an hour."
Folks I was not done in half an hour, not even close. This is a gruesome and messy job. You have to go over and over some of the gaps because some of the tiles have been laid in a jankesque manner. And reaching over your head always results in slippage, which means not only do you have to paint every single grout line in an entire room, you also have to scrub all those tiles afterwards to get the overage off.
And while you're up that ladder pals you're gonna notice all the other jobs that haven't been done in far too long and the stupid, nasty liar voice will whisper insistently that now is the time for all of these tasks. So now my hot press is organised, my bathtub has been deep cleaned, my drains are clear of hair clogs, my shower screen has been deep cleaned and rehung, the mirror has been changed. And some other dumb stuff that absolutely did not need to eat all of Monday up. So now I have a clean bathroom and no Christmas presents for anyone. But hygiene is a gift? Right? Right?