I hate my house.
I think I've mentioned that before. And having said it again, I do admit that I appreciate my house, and the fact that I even have a house...too many people even here in my community don't have that luxury.
But the fact remains, I hate my house.
I hate the black peg-board basement with the broken cold water faucet on the washtub. I hate the windows that don't shut completely and I hate the $180 electric bills.
I hate the flocked wallpaper and the gold-flecked sink in the bathroom.
I especially hate the dark walnut cabinets and the drawers that stick in the kitchen, along with the brown burlap-print laminate counter and the blue country-cute stick-on floor tiles that have gapped. God, I hate it.
It's funny, when I talk about how much I hate my kitchen and how my kitchen hatred leads me to hate being in the kitchen, whether cooking or cleaning, women nod in understanding, and men look at me funny. Are men unaffected by surroundings?
Anyway.
You may be thinking now, all those things are cosmetic, why don't you just fix them?
I've been pondering the fixes for years. And pondering the cost of the fixes. (And spending the money on more substantial fixes: new roof, new heat pump, plumbing, major appliances.) And during a recent conversation with my mom about how I could refinish the cabinets, I had an epiphany.
I hate home improvement, too.
Painting, caulking, tiling...I hate it. I suck at it, too. I'm a slob. I'm impatient. I hate how, when painting, I have to get down and move the ladder, so one time, cutting in between the wall and my parents' cathedral ceiling, I leaned over too far and fell off the ladder. The ladder landed on my sister. I landed on my ass. The paint can made a graceful arc across the room, spreading a swatch of paint across the living room window. Mom ran to the window with rags to clean the glass before the paint dried, them took us to the emergency room. This may or may not have anything to do with my hatred.
When I do complete a project, I feel no sense of satisfaction. Every time I sit in my living room my eye is drawn to the spot where I got pink paint on the white ceiling. I hate myself for doing a crappy job and I hate the wall for...being. In the dining room I know where the wallpaper stretched funny and the pattern doesn't quite match and of course I hate it too.
Every time I mention the idea of hiring someone, my mother says "Oh, but you could do that." And my parents always did, and do, their own home projects. As did my grandparents. I'm pretty sure my grandfather is spinning in his grave at the notion that I would hire someone to replace the washtub faucet, much less paint.
People who like, or don't mind, working on their houses don't get it. People have been telling me that painting if fun, or that plumbing isn't that hard. I don't care. I hate it.
Some people like hockey. Some people like to knit. Some people like home improvement, and I ain't one of them.
(I'm going to try to learn to like writing checks.)
Posted by Nic at March 8, 2005 07:33 PMFor me, the key is knowing your limitations. I don't do "real" plumbing. Some little things are ok, but at some point it becomes worth it to have a pro do it, probably better and certainly faster that I would. Electricity is another thing. I do quite a bit of my own electrical work, but I don't kid myself that I'm an electrician.
Oh, and wallpaper is evil.
Posted by: Ted at March 9, 2005 06:41 AMMy husband and I bought a house. The market here on the east coast is ridiculous. Everyone wants top dollar for crap, and they are getting it. We bought a fixer upper at a good price (for the market). But now I HATE it. We can only work on it when we are not working, and we are tired. My husband is handy (Thank God), but still he can't do everything which leads us to sometimes depend on other people. Don't get me started on how undependable contractors are. And even the one that don't call you back at all are just a step below the ones that do, then don't show up while you sit home and wait for them! So in a nutshell, I wish I could just burn this place down. I understand how people could hate their house. And I also don't understand how men don't get it that if the room sucks, you don't want to be there. Right now my whole house sucks and I don't want to be there and my husband thinks I am overreacting. The last homeowners also left it "board of health" violation type filthy. I don't get people. And they had kids. Should be a crime. Legally in my state, you can't force "cleaning".
Good luck to anyone who is in the same boat as us. I hope I make it through it.