I love the beginning of a project. I love the planning, the organizing, the idea of purging a space, getting rid of all sorts of things we don't need, and giving something a clean, new look. The beginning, now that is fun.
Sadly, when there is a beginning, there must also be a middle, and an end. The middle, for me, tends to drag. on. and on. and on. and on. Part of the problem in an old house is that there are *always* unexpected "surprises" along the way, especially when it comes to renovations of any sort. Okay, so I have learned to deal with surprises, and now have come to expect them. Bring 'em on~
But the one thing I haven't gotten used to seems to be the "renovation bleed" that always comes, for me anyway. You know, the bleed. The seeping out of a nicely confined renovation plan. The "let's paint the master suite" plan that becomes the "should we also paint the cabinets, while we are here anyway?" plan. This inevitably leads to the "wow, those fixtures really don't work anymore, do they?" plan, which carries over to the "what are we going to do for window coverings as these look awful!" plan. And lord, don't even get me started on the "were those electrical outlets and light switches always that dirty off-white?" realization...
So somehow, my day and a half fun little reno project while my husband is away has become a "wow, I should get a job as an electrician/ who knew I could paint pretty much everything and make it look better/ did you know how much crap accumulates in the back of your bathroom cabinets" enlightenment session.
Thankfully, for me, renovation pain such as this disappears much like labor pain. I am quite certain that the next time my darling husband goes on a business trip (which is only a few weeks away...) I will have completely forgotten the trauma that this one has created.