Except for how we started the night. I'll let you be the judge of whether I just messed up...or whether I was led astray.
We unroll the plastic to mark 12' so we know where to start. (Do I need to explain more so you can picture this? We start stapling where the wall meets the ceiling, so we need to know how much plastic to leave hanging toward the floor. So we measure 12', add a couple inches, draw a line, and put that at the ceiling and off we go.) So anyway, I'm measuring 12'. I mark it with my Sharpie. Troy asks, "Do you have your square?" Yes. I mark a straight line. Troy asks, "Do you have your knife?" Yes. And I proceed to cut along the line.
Do you see what just went wrong here?
This was not the case where I was to cut a piece for the wall. This was the case where I was to mark the top of the wall. Just draw the line. Draw, not cut.
But do you see how that might have happened because Troy asked if I had my knife?
When I pointed this out to Troy, he claimed he was just checking if I had all my tools and it was completed unrelated to the task I was attending, or to whether he was thinking I would be cutting the plastic. Really?
I'll let you decide. Please post a comment on whether you think I just brain-farted my way into that all by myself, or whether I was perhaps pushed by the bad smell of someone else's brain flatulence. Your opinions will stay on the blog, and will in no way influence how well or poorly I treat you in person, or even what I think of you as a person. (Promise.)
Cast your vote now, if you dare...