A leak that may have began as the tiniest of drips, but which eventually turned into a steady mist.
A mist up against a wall in the kitchen.
My kitchen.
A wall that became wet and eventually destroyed the countertop attached to it.
My countertop.
And the floor.
My floor.
And the downstairs storage unit.
My storage unit.
But it started with a leak.
One small enough that it was likely able to spit out water for months before being noticed.
Yesterday the contractor came over and fixed that hole in my wall. The one left over from repairing that leak. It took hours of work and chemicals that I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t have been inhaling, but… that wall in the kitchen that was completely opened up last week is now absolutely beautiful today.
In fact, it looks about 100 times better than all the other walls in that room.
Or even all the other walls in the house.
And that’s what happened yesterday.
I promised you an explanation.
But the truth is, the explanation is just embarrassing.
And distinctly highlights my ridiculous need for perfection.
Even amidst the chaos.
Because I couldn’t just leave well enough alone.
You see, as soon as that wall was repaired and the contractor had left, I immediately spied a portion of the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen that looked as if the paint was peeling.
You have to remember that my condo is as old as I am (yes, we were both born in 1983), but unlike me; it’s starting to show some signs of aging.
I know, right? Crazy! At 27 this condo should still be young and pristine and in perfect condition… just like me!
Ha!
Needless to say, this probably wasn’t the first leak that ever occurred in this kitchen. But for some reason it took a beautifully built new wall for me to notice an old leak spot on the opposite side of the room.
And so, I picked at it.
I got on my mini-ladder, and I poked at the hole in the ceiling.
And in peeling back one itsy bitsy tiny bubble, I managed to release a cloud of dust.
So, I just kept going. Because I figured “What the heck? I already made a mess… how much worse can it get?”
Just for the record: It can always get worse!
That teeny tiny corner I was peeling at suddenly ripped down the whole wall. I’m telling you, it just came right off. Leaving in its wake 18 other spots that now needed to be peeled back as well.
Do any of you watch Desperate Housewives? Remember a few weeks back when Bree went and tore down all her wallpaper because of one tiny corner that wouldn’t stick?
Yep. That’s pretty much what happened here. Except with paint.
So I did what any good perfectionist would do. I kept peeling. Until I couldn’t peel anymore, but was still annoyed by the jagged edges.
At which point, I pulled out my electric sander.
I should point out – I didn’t move anything from the kitchen before doing any of this. It was all very spur of the moment.
And before I knew it, the entire room was covered in a not so thin layer of white dust. As was I.
Less than an hour before I needed to leave the house.
So yes, I did go to Mama Mia (which was incredible!) dirty.
And I’m OK with that.
I’ve now sprayed new texture on the wall (to match everything else) and was merely waiting for it to dry so I could repaint it tonight (a beautiful bonus from that new wall was that the contractor had to go to Home Depot to match the paint – and thus, I now have a whole canister of new paint!) except…
I spied the ledge that's been in my lighting area since I first moved in.
You see, when I bought this place the kitchen was equipped with boxed lighting. One of the very first things I did was tear that out and replace it. But since then, there has been a ledge that was left in that interior box. I always told myself that one day I would pull that out and sand it all down and paint a pretty accent color just inside that box.
Well, it turns out that today was that day.
(P.S. I'm sorry I'm such a crappy photographer... I know nothing about lighting or shading or making things pretty.
Especially when it's something that's so ugly to look at to begin with!)
I figured I’m going to have to paint that one wall anyway, so I might as well clean everything up and repaint it all at once. I still have no idea what color I'm going to put in there, but at least I can touch it up with the white until I decide.
Plus, the new flooring is going in Friday, and the new counters in a few weeks. I would just rather get all the sanding out of the way before any of the new stuff goes in.
So, it turns out that getting a little unexpected help with the kitchen remodel was exactly the boost I needed to start really focusing on turning the kitchen into a room I actually want to be.
Which is good for the kitchen.
But maybe not so good for anything in the kitchen.
Or for the roommate.
The poor poor roommate who has to put up with a hormonal single woman who is clearly nesting.
The good news is, I have a project. A project which may not be totally complete for a while still (I’m not looking all that forward to refinishing those cabinets) but which will at least be underway.
And that kitchen is bound to look 1000 times better with new flooring (I picked a vinyl tile) and new countertops (I went with a laminate that looks like a lighter marble) anyway.
If I can keep myself working, I might just be able to bring two perfect babies home next August to a completely finished condo.
Which would be quite the feat, considering the entire place needed remodeling when I moved in a year and a half ago.
I'm pretty sure that soon enough though, my kitchen will stop being the one room I absolutely loathe.
And to think; it started with a leak.
A leak that I cried my eyes out over.
A leak that I was convinced was sent to ruin my cycle.
So I suppose it’s now that I should eat my own words.
Because I guess being a grownup isn’t always that bad after all.
