Tom told me about this phrase when we were still at uni and I still use it to pick myself up when I’m having an ‘off’ day.
Two weekends ago was definitely one of those weekends. That weekend we only planed two doors, hung them and fitted the kitchen floor (sort of). All in all it was pretty dissatisfying. I honestly felt like we were never going to finish the place.
Tom on the other hand found it hilarious when he found me sobbing at the top of the stairs. He did the dutiful thing and calmed me down first but then proceeded to sarcastically keep saying that we would be living here until we are 60, we’ll never move out and never finish it. After several failed attempts to change my attitude using sarcasm, he reminded me that we’ve only been living in the house for just over 6 months and in that time, alongside our full time jobs and social lives, we’ve gutted and virtually made good a whole house.
What we are doing now is just the finishing touches, but unfortunately these are the bits which take most of the time. It also doesn’t help that, being UK summer time, we have virtually no weekends free purely to work on the house. It’s great to see friends, BBQ to out hearts content and go to some great events, but it makes trying to complete a house renovation a darn lot harder. Couple that with us being particularly lazy since we returned from holiday in June; only in the sense that when we come back from work in the evenings we haven’t got into the habit again of doing an hours work on the house.
Anyway, enough of the rant, I’m all PMA now and we’re getting back to our habitual ways, ticking one job off at a time, whenever we have time to do it.
Last weekend Tom dug up half the front garden (the giant soil mound is forever growing; anyone want some??) and I painted a couple of the internal doors, fitted the kitchen plinth, splashback and skirting boards. Home run now..