Home 13: The full bathroom

Maybe I should I have made the linen closet of doom #13, but I'm not thinking at my most clear.  Bathrooms can be scary, right?  We'll go with that.  Bathrooms redecorated by D-I-Y demons can be especially wacky.  From the weird sticky-caulk-y residue left behind after a failed attempt to attach a self-adhesive border to the shower seams to the missing baseboards to the too-tall-to-allow-things-to-be-plugged-into-both-outlets and not-quite-level, newish sink cabinet with the odd extra spaces around it and the not-completely-openable secret drawer at the bottom to the brownish-pink walls (this is what it looks like from the inside of your intestines) to the pinkish vinyl square floor badly laid over a somewhat disgusting tile floor to the inexplicably not-white floating cabinet with the poorly attached doors I can't use to the ugly fixturing (why would you want gold, silver, and bronze on everything anyway), this bathroom is, um, well, it's functional despite all the DIY disasters.  There is a heating vent, a bathtub that is old but not nearly as terrible as the one at my last place, and a fan that seems close to its last legs but does not moan like lost souls.  (See Part 7.)

Some day, I want it to be a clean blue-based and calming place.  If I can figure out a way to obtain a freestanding, claw foot tub to cram in there, that would be lovely.  Not sure if I want black or white fixtures of plastic to avoid rust and mold or something bronze like elsewhere.  I'd like the lights to be dimmable.  It will look like a whole new world not at all resembling the interior of the human body.  Some day.  Probably a long time from now, what with all the other actually necessary repairs.

At least the toilet is one of those ancient beasts that will flush anything down, not these new, delicate ones you can't trust if they are having a bad day.  And this one is attached to the floor.