I got a cabinet for my bathroom because this house has a serious lack of storage space. I guess when the original residents lived here their towels and other bathroom sundries just magically disappeared from sight when company came, then reappeared when needed? Anyway, I have installed three wall cabinets and added a floor cabinet to the bathroom since I moved in…all three of which will be leaving with me when I move unless my landlord wants to pay me for them.
When in the box, the cabinet did not look as big as it actually is. There was also no warning about how heavy it was going to be or instructions on how to use the sleeves that are required when one hangs something heavy on a sheetrock/drywall bathroom wall.
Some of the frustration, fatigue, and general irritability from yesterday was still lingering this morning but I had to press on and hang the darned thing because I have to return the drill to my father this evening. Add into the mix that I have limited upper body strength and limited patience with things that don’t go right the first time AND that I got about four hours of sleep last night and you can probably imagine the fiesta that was the Hanging of the Cabinet.
But you know what? I did it. All by myself save one call to Scott to ask if the sleeves were supposed to be flush with the wall…I hung the cabinet. There were several failed attempts and some tears and a few “I HATE THIS CABINET!” exclamations, but it is now on my wall, hopefully sturdy and filled with the stuff that I don’t want just sitting out for all to see. I found the holes on the back of the cabinet, somehow sprouted two extra hands and found the screws in the wall, bit my lip and shoved…and the cabinet stayed!
Geeeeezominey, I hope that thing doesn’t fall on my head the next time I have to use the toilet…