I'm The Only One That Will Even Notice. Except I'm So Tired Of Living In A House Where I Constantly Have To Avert My Eyes From My Own Handiwork

Five years ago, I wrote a post about a lovely bike ride, and how it could make someone sad to see so much beauty. I thought, eventually, that that was a form of nostalgia in prospect. Tonight, I feel really bad, but it's more a sense of regret in prospect. I'm hanging a grab bar, and the only thing that I've accomplished totally so far, is to drop the bit, and have it completely disappear. On the floor. Right in front of me. I have a good idea how this is going to look when I actually start drilling. And it's not pretty.