Dungeon to Laundry Room Makeover
One cold day in January, while my husband helplessly sat in his office chair at work making an actual contribution to this family, I decided I had better things to do than listen to lectures on Cystic Fibrosis or Mesothelioma and proceeded to peruse my house making a list of “projects” I would like to complete. The list was 1,246 items long and I spent approximately $6,241.58 in my mind during that 45 second walk, but I never once thought “hm, maybe we should do something to the laundry room.” In fact, I don’t even think I went in the laundry room.
If you talked to my husband might tell you that I, in fact, never go in the laundry room. He might say something which would lead you to believe that he does our laundry 95% of the time or that I haven’t ironed a piece of clothing in 12 years, but he has a habit of lying like that, so if I were you I would just avoid talking to him all together.
Anyway, this room is barely the size of my bathtub and is located in the very back of our house. It’s attached to the garage, has no windows and is basically the ground-level dungeon of this mansion. Seriously, if I had a red-headed step-child or pet troll I captured from beneath an overpass bridge this is the room where you’d find them.
The room never really bothered me, it did it’s job by housing the machines that keep me from having to wear dirty underwear, so I was okay with it hanging out all plain-jane in the back of the house. Then, I started seeing things like this pop up on the DIY and Home blogs I read:
|Left From KevinandAmanda.com & Right by Donna Griffith|
I saw these and immediately headed off to the same home improvement store where my old lady friend works to find some paint. The hubby was none-too-pleased when it took me approximately 12 hours to pick out a color. He was even less pleased when I suddenly freaked out, bailed from the very long line we had been waiting in and insisted on finding a different color.
When I finally made up my mind (again) the guy behind the counter whose job it is to mix up paint colors (and whose job it is not to unapologetically judge my design decisions) looked at me and said “Oh, this isn’t really a laundry room color…it’s more for like a bedroom or something.”
I could feel the aura of panic radiating from my husband at the possibility that I was about to, once again, start anew in my color-decision process. He looked at me, fear and despair on his face, and awaited my response.
“Actually, it will look really good. I’ll send you pictures when I’m done. Now, mix my paint before my starving husband wastes away into a pile of bones right in front of your eyes and I have to drag what’s left of him to the car by his shoe strings.” **
Then, we went home and I moved the washer and dryer out of the laundry room, cleaned everything in the vicinity, taped up all the edges and painted the entire thing by myself. Donnie’s version of this story may vary slightly, but we already discussed his lying habit.
|That door goes to the garage and that
adorable sign was a gift from my mom.
|I don’t know what those black and white square
things are for. The internet or something…I am not
allowed to move them…I already asked.
|$10 Craigslist find (with the original
$.49 price still written on it in pencil)!
|Umbrella, White Coat & Stethoscope Home|
|Really sweet pull-out drying rack from Amazon!
Polder Wall-Mount 24-Inch Accordion Clothes Dryer, White
**I actually only verbalized two of those sentences, you can decide for yourselves
which ones they were.
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I’m an Ob/Gyn resident (that means I went to medical school to become a doctor) and now I'm working like a crazy person to learn my trade before I'm on my own in the wild. I graduated medical school in 2013, just 6 months after I birthed a couple of babies of my own. My life story up to November 2010 can be viewed here. The events in the many years following can be summed up as wedding bells, books, exams, babies, and doctoring. I only started this blog in hopes of landing a role in a Lifetime movie so I could quit medicine and move to Hollywood, so if you wouldn't take medical advice from Angelina Jolie, you shouldn't take it from me. I may not even be a real person. In fact, I'm probably a spambot. Or possibly a 15 yo boy blogging from a dingy basement. If you're really interested you can read more about me here. If you have any questions or want to guest post contact me.