Oh yes, there is a curse upon this house. In the last few hours, I believe that hubby and I have called this dwelling every foul name in the book. Remember how I said that we were touching up the kitchen a bit as part of this latest project? Yeah, new paint on the walls, a freshly painted ceiling and baseboards-- those parts were finished, and I actually have been enjoying sitting in my calm little kitchen. Until... hmmm...
What's that little puddle on the counter? Oh, I must have forgotten to wipe the counter after doing the breakfast dishes...
Fast forward a few hours.
Another puddle? I didn't use the sink, oh crap! (That, my friends, is the PG rated dub-over.)
As I look up, I can clearly see four thin lines of water dripping out from under the crown molding. Seriously. I wipe them away and feel that the drywall there is damp and just a bit squishy along the line of the molding. C'mon!!!
I actually held the telephone in my hand for a full minute, pondering what to say to hubby as I knew that I was going to simply crush his day with this news. Short story: he came home early, cut a hole in the drywall, discovered that he can't access the pipes through that hole because of a vent-thingy, cut a second hole in the ceiling and found that the entire length of crap-copper piping had green leaky spots, thus needing to be replaced.
So, guess what? Looks like I'll be living with some more ceiling holes for a while, because apparently it's freaking impossible to have fully intact ceilings around here for more than a few days. The supposed plan is to have a plumber/former co-worker of hubby's come over on Monday to replace the pipes, which we'll access by ripping up the floor above the pipe (which happens to be Pudge's bedroom-- he doesn't need a floor!). At least there won't be a third, or larger, hole cut in my kitchen ceiling...
I originally thought the title to this post was going to be the discrepancy between who I am and who I want to be. I figured that while it hit to the core of what I'm feeling, it was simply too wordy. But here's the thing-- I want to be the person who acknowledges the problem and puts on a game face about the whole ordeal. Instead, I sat at my table and cried for a few minutes, because all I feel is overwhelmed, frustrated, and pissed off. We have lived with nonstop construction for years in this little house, and just as it seems like we're getting a leg up on the list of to-do's, another wrench is thrown at us. (We can dodge a ball, but those wrenches sure do smart a bit!) While I wish for stoicism, I'm met with despair. I want to be the see the bright side- the tools are all still out! kind of person, but I end up feeling beat down instead.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful. I'm thankful that we even have this little roof over our heads, although I fear even mentioning the dang roof. I'm grateful for my DIY-gene-enabled hubby who has an eye for projects and the talented hands to pull them off. I'm filled with gratitude that it's just the house stuff that I have to worry about now, and not my children's health or job losses or home foreclosures. I get all that. At the same time, though, I'm feeling pretty discouraged and self-pitying. Hopefully this weekend will indeed find us making some headway, because crossing off items on the to do list is always comforting, especially at a time when new entries are being added by the minute.
Curious for pics? You know where to go!
Hoping to someday live in a construction-free-zone,
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