Do-It-Yourself vs. Expert Home Updates: What's Smarter?Tips to Refresh an Outdated Property on a Small Budget 20
The tap wasn't even technically malfunctioning. Just temperamental. You had to twist it slightly left and then back into position to get non-freezing water. If you went too far, it'd let out a weird sound. Not deafening, but sharp — like a rusty hinge with opinions. I put up with it for years. Blamed the pipes. Blamed the building. Blamed everything except the fact that I hadn't done anything.
One Tuesday, I was home early, waiting for the pasta water to boil, and it hit me: I can't stand this setup.
It wasn't a moment of clarity. More like a feeling that had finally spread to my ribs. The cutlery tray slid around, the bench was barely usable, and the cupboard door slammed my face every time I bent down. I'd started to brace like it was a reflex.
I pulled out a notebook and wrote “replace kitchen faucet” at the top. Beneath that: “longer bench,” then “why is it behind the fridge?” The question mark wasn't sarcastic. The switch really was hidden like a prank.
I told myself I'd click here just fix that one thing. 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 tile samples 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 handed it over with a grin Not exactly the comforting guidance, but I used it anyway.
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 chaos 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 learned to live with it.
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 stand there, I don't duck. That alone is something.
And that notebook? Still on the bench. Nothing new written. Which, honestly, says a lot.