What to Renovate Initially When Revamping an Aging HomeOpen-Plan Designs: Is It Suitable for Your Home Makeover? 75
What to Renovate Initially When Revamping an Aging HomeOpen-Plan Designs: Is It Suitable for Your Home Makeover? 75
Blog Article
The tap wasn't even completely busted. Just annoying. You had to twist it a bit sideways and then back into position to get usable water. If you went too far, it'd shriek. Not deafening, but unpleasant — like a kettle screaming. I lived with it for too long. Blamed the pipes. Blamed the apartment. Blamed everything except the fact that I hadn't done anything.
One rainy evening, I was home by accident, waiting for the pasta water to boil, and it hit me: I hate this kitchen.
It wasn't a moment of clarity. More like a slow itch that had finally spread to my ribs. The cabinet handles jiggled, the bench was barely usable, and the overhead storage door was my arch nemesis every time I grabbed a bowl. I'd started to flinch early.
I pulled out a scrap of paper and wrote “new tap” at the top. Beneath that: “longer bench,” then “move light switch?” The question mark wasn't sarcastic. The switch really was inexplicably placed.
I told myself I'd just fix that one thing. Just swap out the tap. Easy. But standing in the plumbing section three days later, confused by finishes, I somehow ended up with paint cards under my arm. And then came the demolition.
I didn't get help. I probably should've. Instead, I watched a video at 1am from my friend Rory, who told me to "be careful-ish" Not exactly the comforting guidance, but I ran with it.
Taking down that top unit felt like a win. Against what? I'm not totally sure. Maybe the version of me that made excuses.
The chaos spiraled. Not in a disaster way, just... naturally. I spent three hours googling website “do I need primer?”. Got into a minor debate with a guy on a forum about epoxy grout. I still don't really understand epoxy, but I'm convinced he was full of it.
And the new tap? Still makes a sound. Different sound now. Softer. Almost charming. I think I like it. Or maybe I've given up.
It's not perfect. The tile near the bin's slanted, and the outlet by the toaster wobbles. But when I stand there, I don't duck. That alone is something.
And that notebook? Still on the bench. Nothing new written. Which, honestly, feels good.