Leftovers or 1 more

I had purchased a kit to build a Glorious Outdoor Shed
made of Barnyard Red Bricks.  The clerk said if I adhered  
to the directions exactly, I could accomplish this task  
in about a week.  Excited, I began to open the contents  
methodically.  Each brick I counted and accounted for  
Each bag of mortar mix and all the two by fours - all of  
it!  Tomorrow I would begin after a good sleep with good  
dreams or none at all.  And then I would try to be awake  
for the time it is time to awaken.  Always an excited  
time for me.  
 
After 2.5 hours of sleep, I went straight to the task of  
building a shed to withstand more than a few poetical  
consternations and ogre innuendos or even occasional trolls.  
 
My area had to be level!  And I surrounded myself with that  
very even tempered wordsmiths helping me to level all  
opposition and pave the way for Friendship love and spirituality.  
 
Now I had to dig; I had to dig in so that the sands of  
uncertainty had their place in the mix of which the mortar  
of strong moderator and admin foundation would become just  
that...my Underground shed foundation.  
 
Another day and night, it has to set and dry.  Now it is  
a time for poets to Feel, to challenge to write!  
god how I hate the fucking waiting; it always gets me into  
trouble.  
 
4 hours of sleep and I am up pouring concrete at each post  
and the poets continue to post and write and inspire!  
I might as well make certain there's enough poets for the  
walls of the shed and so I match my count to the  
FAQ link afforded all who are referred or invited to play.  
 
Another 2.25 hrs and I am already laying down the wall of  
incredible poetry and I delight each time the mortar ne'er  
fails to adhere to another incredible write.  Uneven is the  
method here so that no element outside can ever undermine  
what labor and love and sweat and anger has been put in  
to create this House of Ink.  
 
And now, after the final brick is in place, I stand back  
and I marvel.  
FUCK!  What the Fuck?!  There is a brick left over!  Mine.  
Did I not forget to count it in?  Do I not count?  What  
the Fuck?  I notified the creator and she assures me that  
all bricks in the kit belong.  
 
I must have counted 25 times in a row and still....  
one fucking brick.....**sigh**  One left Over Brick.  
 
Rather than call anew or count all over again, I place my  
last brick within the mortar and sledge it to death.  
This will be the glue for the Den.