Remodeling a house yourself, from scratch, with no prior experience, and no prior equipment, can be a daunting experience. You might actually be thinking “stupid move” or “crazy idea” or “really hilarious, can I watch?”, but I’m going with daunting. It sounds more positive and not quite as dumb.
Today, as we were at that store who’s bitch we have become, the place with the orange beams and the drywall and the tools, renting a hammer drill and a concrete nailer, P. looked irritated at how much we were spending.
I told him he’d better not get pissed off every time we have to spend more money, because if he does, he’ll be mad every day (and I’ll have to live with him). He said he didn’t realize just how expensive everything was going to be. I (the every loving girlfriend) said that he’d better buck up, because it’s going to be pricey and if he’s going to scowl at every expense, life is not going to be very pleasant for a while.
I think he’s over the expense problem. I just saw him cruising craigslist. I told him that I’m pretty sure we don’t need a hundred pound hammer. Or a $2200 Dale Earnhardt Jr. tool set, or a welder. Or a metal lathe. He’s trying to think of reasons why I’m wrong. I probably shouldn’t question him. I’ll end up with a completely metal room just so he can justify his shopping.
Another problem with remoding one’s entire house is that you have no experience with the tools you buy and yet you have to figure out to both use them and maintain them. We bought a compressor from craigslist the other day. (The guy was asking $200 but as we were in his garage looking at it, he said he’d give it to us for $150. As we drove off, P. said, “nice guy, but not really a salesman. I was ready to give him the $200.”) This morning, we were trying to figure out how to unscrew the drain valve. This is a valve that lets the air back out of the compressor and according to the HUGE warning on the outside of the tank, we should drain it after each use. I’m pretty sure the tank might explode and kill us in our sleep if we don’t drain it.
Anyway, we couldn’t get it to work and so we figured we’d replace the screw only then I got ahold of it and broke off part of it and then P. took over to fix what I broke. “Well, now we’re fucked.” Not what you want to hear about a piece of equipment you only just bought last week. P. had broken off the valve even more. And squished it all together. We managed to get the entire (now broken) valve off and I’m pretty sure an air compressor doesn’t work well without the valve keeping the air, erm, compressed. But we brought the part to the land of the orange beams and luckily we were able to replace it for just a couple of bucks.
We may be that store’s bitch, but damn if she doesn’t take care of us.
So, P. spent the day chipping away concrete. He had to take a vicodin after. We fantasized about our jacuzzi tub, but then realized that by the time we got it in, we wouldn’t really need it anymore because all our home improvements would be done.
We won’t need it anymore, right? Once we’re done, our house will stay perfect forever and will never need another repair again? Right?