For the last couple of months I’ve sort of been renovating my home. Sort of. It’s a long story. All I’ve really managed to do is turn my flat into a flimsy uninhabitable shell. But to be fair, I had help. Although that word implies a level of actual assistance.
The plan was to femme the flat up a bit and modernise it after more than a decade of considered inaction on my part. It was a sound plan in theory. But there is no amount of planning that will compensate for the untimely death of your builder halfway through proceedings. Kind of left me with a bit of a dilemma.
Despite the current state of things, I’m trying to stay relatively optimistic. It’s mostly cosmetic and fixable within a short enough timescale but it’s pretty difficult to remain upbeat when you are estranged from your home. I even miss the crappy line in my wall which I had replastered out of existence.
But it’s a lesson learned. Home improvement sucks. If it can go wrong, it invariably will. At twice the cost. I now have to pay someone to rectify and complete work I’ve already paid for. I know this much though. If I ever mention doing further work, someone really needs to punch me in the throat. For my own good.