One Job, Then the Tile

The orange Ditra is down, set now and into perpetuity onto the bathroom floor where it has one job--to keep the floor stable so that cracks do not appear, even in the face of Armageddon.

Cheryl and I have adopted the phrase "one job" as a way of shoveling scorn on people who fail to pay attention, in particular to those people who are first in line at a turn light and who sit for several seconds and fail to act after the light turns green, causing us (who are sitting in line) to get stuck when the light turns red again.

We say at that evil person, with a loud voice, "You have one job! One job!" And the person drives away in shame, but there's no hope for people like this, and we shouldn't yell at them.

Or if we are first in line at the light and Cheryl is driving, I turn to her and (in jest) say "one job" as a reminder to watch the light instead of playing with her fingernails or admiring her curly hair in the mirror, to which she replies negatively.

Soon the Ditra membrane will disappear under the new tile, which comes in 12-inch sheets and is not orange. Because the stupid orange sheeting was so expensive (I am embarrassed to say how much), I am probably being more verbally abusive toward it than is necessary. "One job, you asshole," I may have said to it earlier...