How to Prepare for a Home Makeover Without the StressLong-Term Remodeling Ideas That Increase Long-Term Value 42
The tap wasn't even technically malfunctioning. Just temperamental. You had to twist it just so and then back a hair to the right to get warm water. If you messed up the angle, it'd shriek. Not loud, but unpleasant — like a kettle screaming. I let it go for too long. Blamed the plumbing. Blamed the setup. Blamed everything except myself.
One rainy evening, I was home before dark, waiting for the pasta water to boil, and it hit me: I am tired of this space.
It wasn't a breakdown. More like a feeling that had finally spread to my ribs. The drawers were loose, the bench was barely usable, and the cupboard door was my arch nemesis every time I opened the dishwasher. I'd started to flinch early.
I pulled out a receipt back and wrote “new tap” at the top. Beneath that: “actual counter space,” then “move light switch?” The question mark wasn't a joke. The switch really was inexplicably placed.
I told myself I'd start small. Just swap out the tap. Easy. But standing in the plumbing section three days later, holding a tap, I somehow ended up with paint cards under my arm. And then came the point of no return.
I didn't hire a pro. I probably should've. Instead, I got a drill from a mate from my friend Rory, who handed it over with a grin Not exactly the comforting guidance, but I used it anyway.
Taking down that top unit felt like a win. Against what? I'm not totally sure. Maybe the version of me that tolerated nonsense.
The chaos spiraled. Not into madness, just... naturally. I spent three hours reading reviews about adhesive. Got into a minor debate with a guy on a Facebook group about “the best tile spacing tool”. I still don't really understand epoxy, but I'm read more convinced he was wrong.
And the new tap? Still squeaks. Different sound now. Softer. Almost charming. I think I like it. Or maybe I've learned to live with it.
It's not a showroom. The tile near the bin's slanted, and the outlet by the toaster feels off-balance. But when I stand there, I don't feel dread. That alone is enough.
And that notebook? Still on the bench. Nothing new written. Which, honestly, says a lot.