Why the hell did we buy this s%#@ hole?
I asked myself that question for months.
I’ve since moved on, but now, when my life seems consumed by remodeling, when I trip and fall while navigated our pitch-black, unelectrified hallway or when I walk by a mirror at work and see drywall dust smeared on my black slacks, I mutter, “Shit, this better be worth it. There better be a good reason we’re doing this.” And I don’t just mean resale value of our home or the fact that we’re learning how to operate every tool at The Home Depot.
This is going to sound crazy and I hesitate to type it because I have a feeling I may regret it, but I’ve always felt like this house was in our destiny – that we were meant to take on this obscene, life-altering project.
Why do I think this? Why do I choose to tack a romantic notion onto what could more practically be explained as a poor choice shrouded in a veil of naivety?
Because on December 5, 2004, the day our realtor was taking us through a few homes ‘in the sticks,’ I woke up knowing it was the day we would find our house. I was so convinced of this that I got out of bed and started packing…with a huge, silly-ass grin on my face.
There are several occasions in life that seem to be tethered to the phrase “When you find the one, you’ll just know.” For me, this has applied to three things: my husband, my wedding dress and my home. I knew I wanted to marry Joey 6 months after our first date, I knew I wanted my wedding dress when I couldn’t bear to take it off at the bridal salon, and I knew about this house after taking a single step into the doorway. Six hours after waking up on that December day, we were making an offer on a shit hole and 18 days later we were living in it.
One year later, I found myself seriously questioning my judgement. Why did we decide to pick up and move 45 minutes away from the city, so far away from our friends, nightlife, great food and abundant activity? Why did we buy a home that consumed our time and money faster than a hungry, hungry hippo eats those stupid white balls? 
But then I realized that I’ve lived my life, and lived it well, by trusting my instincts, and that sometimes clarity comes long after a decision has been made.
So today, I still choose to believe there is a reason we live where and how we do. I appreciate the obvious ones – Joey and I have gained a lifetime of knowledge about home remodeling, our marriage has grown into a true demonstration of teamwork and support, and I have this blog that’s connected me to people I otherwise never would’ve met. And maybe that’s all there is to it. Maybe those are the precise reasons we ended up with the home we did and have taken on this incredibly rewarding and equally horrific project.
But my instincts tell me there’s more to this story…that there’s a bigger reason for this. But then again, it could just be my naivety painting a poor choice into a pretty picture. 
Or, maybe I’ve just inhaled too much plaster dust and hit my head enough times to lose touch with reality. Either way, this way of thinking makes it easier for me to keep picking up that hammer and living in a sea of dirt that I only occasionally see because we don’t have electricity. And if that’s what it takes to finish this project, then empty the vacuum cleaner bag on my face and whack me in the head with a crowbar. Okay don’t, that actually sounds horrible.
I’m glad to hear your marriage is doing OK during all this. A ‘build your own house’ book I read before starting our addition and remodel indicated that building or remodeling a house was pretty stressful for relationships, and the author had seen more than one end in divorce. So he strongly encouraged people to make sure they were ready to set off on such an adventure.
Thanks, Gene. I think that’s probably true. A project on our scale definitely helps you learn a lot about your partner. We’ve had our fair share of frustrating moments, but for the most part, we just try to keep it as fun as possible!
I think that you need to shroud yourself in a veil of naivety in order to keep going. When you find that greater purpose, you can stand on the pedestal of righteousness:-) Hee, hee, hee.
You guys are way more ambitious than we are. We did our two bathrooms this year and by the end, our marriage was definitely bruised. You know…just a bump:-)
Home improvement can be a treacherous path. But when you see what you’ve accomplished, it all seems worth it. Has to be a little like the way I’ve heard some women describe childbirth …