DIY vs. Expert Projects: What's Worth the Risk?Top 10 Indications It is the Right Time to Upgrade Your House 87

DIY vs. Expert Projects: What's Worth the Risk?Top 10 Indications It is the Right Time to Upgrade Your House 87

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This one stupid tap wasn't even completely busted. Just slow. You had to turn it a bit sideways and then back a hair to the right to get warm water. If you messed up the angle, it'd shriek. Not loud, but oddly high-pitched — like a dying violin. 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 hate this kitchen.

It wasn't a rage fit. More like a slow itch that had finally forced its way to the surface. The cabinet handles jiggled, the bench was basically decorative, and the overhead storage door slammed my face every time I grabbed a bowl. I'd started to brace like it was a reflex.

I pulled out a scrap of paper and wrote “replace kitchen faucet” at the top. Beneath that: “longer bench,” then “this wiring makes no sense” The question mark wasn't sarcastic. The switch really was inexplicably placed.

I told myself I'd start small. Just swap out the tap. Easy. But standing in the aisle of chaos three days later, being stared at by brushed nickel options, 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 said, “Don't aim at anything alive.” Not exactly the comforting guidance, but I got started.

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 journey read more 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 convinced he was full of it.

And the new tap? Still makes a sound. Different sound now. Softer. Almost charming. I think I like it. Or maybe I've given up.

It's not magazine-worthy. The tile near the bin's not square, and the outlet by the toaster feels off-balance. But when I walk in, I don't duck. That alone is something.

And that notebook? Still on the bench. Nothing new written. Which, honestly, feels good.