My husband and I have been in our new house now for just over three months. And though the boxes have been unpacked, and the items inside (mostly) put away, things are not… quite… there yet.
Almost every room needs to be repainted (and, at the moment, the walls sport splotchy blobs of spackle). We need to de-texturize the ceilings in the living room, dining room, and family room. We need up rip up carpet and get the floors beneath sanded and re-finished. We need to replace the front door (which sits askew in its frame, lets in ALL the winter air, and pops open on its own when it’s not locked) and, in fact, need to eventually replace all the doors in the house. We need to get a hot water heater and extend the gas line, because 95 percent of our showers since we’ve moved in have been lukewarm to ice cold. And the list goes on.
In contrast, my new home office is fucking awesome. My dad helped me re-paint the walls a soothing gray. I singlehandedly ripped up the carpet, and then hired someone to sand and re-finish the floors the very next day. I bought a gorgeous, new desk, a matching filing cabinet, and a bookcase I lovingly caress at least once a day. I brought in my mother’s old typewriter, a globe covered in dragons, and other doo-dads and gee-gaws to make the room my own. I even hung a bulletin board / inspiration board. The only thing that’s missing is a purple, velvet, tufted chaise lounge for my “reading corner.”
When I had a housewarming party earlier this month, I told all of my guests that this was “the most important room in the house.”
“Have you been more productive in here?” they asked me, remembering my previous setup.
Well… no. [Read more…]
