One-piece, Two-piece, Red-piece, Blue-piece or, The Art of Buying a Toilet Online

I would just like to know whose bright idea it was to conduct a kitchen and bath renovation from 3000 miles away?!?! Oh, right, mine. What was I thinking? My only comfort is that the stress of doing all this from afar is less than the stress of living with the demolition and construction. At least, that's what I tell myself. I could be lying to myself. I'm not sure. I'm a very good liar, so it's kind of hard to tell.

I had no idea that there are more than 1100 models of toilet on the Home Depot Website alone. I mean, really, given the function, how many choices do you really need? One-piece, two-piece, single-flush, double-flush, state-of-the art flushing system for the new millennium. Come on!  And don't get me started on faucets. Integral stops, my ass! Then there's the cabinets, counters, appliances, knobs, pulls, tiles, and the partridge in the pear tree! I even had to order special recessed cabinets for under the island so that there's a place to put the dogs' dishes! And are they grateful? Noooo!

I'm trying really hard to find the zen in all of this. Or at least the humor. This is another one of those things that I never thought I'd be doing on my own. Buying my own piece of Manhattan Real Estate. Remodeling it. What do I know about any of this? I'm really just bluffing my way through everything. Maybe I can fool everyone into thinking I actually know what I'm doing.

Funnily enough, sometimes I feel like that's my basic approach to life. "Fake it til you make it." As long as I act like I know what I'm doing, maybe no one will tip to the fact that I really have no clue! Sure, I sound really together - I've handled my parents' deaths, a few international moves, diverse jobs, now the murky, shark-infested waters of home improvement. And it's all been a piece of cake - or maybe not. It's more like I've created this illusion. It's glittery and distracting, and it keeps people from seeing that I'm really a fraud. But, it's fragile, and can shatter at any moment if I'm not careful. Then what? I'm selling pencils on the streets of New York (or The Big Issue in London), saying, "But I'm a writer! Really! And a teacher! And  . . . oh, forget it, do you want a pencil or not?"

OK, so maybe that's a bit of hyperbole (I am an English teacher after, all). And, not for nothing, but is it really an illusion if it works? I am successful as a teacher, and moderately successful as a writer. And I did survive my parents' deaths. I got the Fulbright, and moved to London. And I bought my own apartment, and orchestrated this whole renovation. Crap, I've circled back to that again, haven't I? Just seems unavoidable. Oh, well, I guess I should get back to looking at toilets. Only 987 to go!

PS - check out the new online novel, Funerals By Francie: www.funeralsbyfrancie.blogspot.com