I’m holding a huge piece of plywood. I’m trying to cut it with a teeny-tiny saw. Plywood wobbles, and I’m not a physicist, but I know it’s not good for the thing you’re trying to cut to be wobbling when you’re trying to cut it. 

I’m 30 years old. It’s the summer of 2000. I’m trying to redo the downstairs bathroom. 

I have no skills. Crap tools. And practically zero knowledge of carpentry, plumbing, and tiling. I hate painting.  

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