Thursday, May 25, 2017

The Truth About Renovation

I think my coworkers and friends might be under the impression that renovating houses is semi-glamorous. Maybe you think it too from reading this blog or following me on Instagram. But I am here to dispel those myths.

House renovating is...

It's not getting a full night's sleep because you're worried about the fact that all your money is tied up in a house.
It's maxing out your credit cards and hoping you make enough profit to pay it off plus some.
It's hitting body parts with your hammer when you were aiming for the nail.
It's having a toothache and not having the time to go to the dentist because every day the house is not on the market costs money.
It's having major germ issues and having to use a port-a-potty in rain, snow, sun, heat, and that port-a-potty not getting emptied regularly and... you get the picture.
It's wrangling neighborhood goats and then giving them the hairy eyeball every day afterward.
It's waiting on the electrician/plumber/carpenter/painter and them not showing up when they say they will.
It's learning you are capable of more than you thought.
It's giving 100% of your muscle strength and being sore for days after.
It's worrying yourself silly about whether your design choices will help or hinder the sale.
It's paint all over your clothes (that stuff never comes out).
It's getting to spend time with your dad and it being awesome.
It's dirty, grimy, dusty, and then you develop a weeks-long cough.
It's being sick and feeling like poop and still going to work on the house.
It's seeing the cabinets/tile/vanities/flooring/paint you chose installed and loving how it looks.
It's being physically exhausted but feeling good about it.
It's getting shocked from bad electrical wiring.
It's pipes bursting and water going everywhere.
It's working a full day in the city, spending 2 hours commuting out to the house, trying to muster up some energy to keep going for a few more hours, and then the first thing out of your father's mouth being, Everyone hates the fireplace.

I am so tired. I just had a coworker tell me I look exhausted (thanks). I have been dealing with the worst bout of seasonal allergies I've ever had for the past two weeks. I don't sleep well, ever, but especially lately since I can't breathe out my nose. I worked a full day in the city, then got stuck on the T for an exorbitant amount of time due to signal problems, then raced to pick up a set of keys, then got stuck in traffic heading up to the house. I was tired but trying so hard to muster because I love this house and love working in it and seeing what it has become. So I blasted music and got ready to spend a couple hours painting or whatever needed to get done by this weekend. And I walked into the house and the first words out of my dad's mouth were, Everyone hates the fireplace. If my father had been looking up from staining the stairs he would have seen how utterly hurt I was by this, but he didn't look up and I slowly walked away. He continued staining the stairs and I went upstairs to paint trim. A little while later he came upstairs and we kind of had it out and then retreated to our corners for a bit and I thought, Why am I even doing this? I use up all my vacation time, I don't get to go on vacations, I am tired all the time, and it's not like I'm rolling in dough. I'm still living in an over-priced 375 sq. ft. apartment. What's the point? Maybe this is my last DaddyDaughterFlip. Miraculously, I didn't burst into tears. I felt completely defeated and prepared to give up, but first I had to finish painting the trim. Because no matter what, this house has to get finished and go on the market next week.

A little while later my dad called me downstairs to help him install the range hood (it's pretty stunning) and disclosed that he'd fallen earlier in the day. This is what I am fearful of every day that I'm at work and not at the flip house with him. My dad was working alone rebuilding the back deck and he fell. And no one was there with him. On Monday I texted him and for hours got no response and my mind got to working and I finally texted ARE YOU ALIVE??? It turned out he was at Monday night golf and probably found my worry annoying, but my fear was not unfounded. I don't know if my dad realizes just how important he is to me, how I would lose myself if anything ever happened to him. And so he was bruised and hurt (but not broken) and tired and stressed and he maybe didn't think about how hurt I would be regarding Everyone hates the fireplace. I took a design risk. I think it paid off and that the fireplace looks clean and modern and beautiful even if "everyone" else hates is. And anyway, who cares what the carpenter, plumber, and realtor think? I certainly don't.

So that was my night. Today I will do it all again. If you don't hear from me all weekend it's because I'm sleeping.

~ Stephanie

Dad, because I know you're reading this, I know I said I can't keep doing this but I really love working with you so I don't want to stop renovating houses.

1 comment

  1. You are a flipping champion!! (Pun intended of course) Keep going, sistah!


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