Me Is Woe Begon

The sink arrived. It is too big. If the toilet were situated only a couple more inches towards the tub, the sink would fit. Alas. (It would fit in the other bathroom (which, by the way, is SMALLER), but I am not - not, I say! - converting that bathroom back to its original pinkness.)

I'm still proud of my bargain sink, given the prices I see some restoration/salvage places charging for them (and especially given it was unused and still in its original box). But. But. But.

Now I'm left with 50 pounds of pink vitreous china I have no use for, and 5 pounds of white, rotting cardboard that still needs to be replaced with something.

Assuming my pink toilet fits (the sink was shipped first), I'll then be left with no other option* but to continue searching for a pink sink that fits. They exist. They must. I've seen small, white wall-mounts on those aforementioned salvage places; I've even seen a seafoam green one (why can't my bathroom be that color?); surely, somewhere out there, is a pink one, just waiting to find a home in my bathroom. (And, surely, it will be too freaking expensive, just like that seafoam green sink. After you've paid $5.25 for a sink, there's no way you'll pay $325!) There is a 20" wide one on eBay at the moment, but the style is abhorrent. Well. More abhorrent. My Holy Grail of pink sinks would be the twin sister of the seafoam green sink above.

*Yes, I realize that I also have the option of just forgoing the whole idea of restoring a bathroom that should never have been made in the first place. But, see, I get obsessive once I decide to do something. The stupider that something is, the less capable I am of letting it go.