I run a blog confessional on my mom blog on Fridays, and I thought maybe I would bring it to this blog too. It's a lot of writing keeping up with both blogs and then trying to write for money. But I don't want to neglect this blog either!
There are certain things I hate about this house.
I'm sure that everyone has things in their house that drive them crazy. In the old house it was the kitchen light fixture (which I fixed the first week we moved in). And then it was the paint (which we took care of a year later). And then the rose bushes (not a big rose person- thorns, or something). But we were buying a twenty year old house, and we kind of expected that feeling of wanting to make the house ours. And I was ok with taking the time to make it our home.
There's a whole story of how bummed I was to have spent the amount of time we did on the house only to have it burn down. But that's not the point I'm making now.
WE built this house. For us. We helped draw up the plans. I expected to love it. I didn't expect to walk downstairs every morning cussing the microwave because it is fritzing out (seriously, the thing is possessed). I am irritated that we didn't vault the ceilings in our master bedroom. I am annoyed by some of the placements of light switches. I HATE that our grass is dead in the back after we told the landscapers about the river rock and that we needed a solid layer of topsoil. I already did the landscaping at this house once. I don't really want to lay sod again TYVM.
I feel really guilty for feeling this way. I should love everything about this house. I should be so glad that we have a home, that we aren't living in a haunted craphole rental (there was some weird, freaky stuff that happened there, I'm not kidding). Our house is big. It's beautiful even. I should be grateful, not to say that I'm not for the most part. But I still wish we had done things a bit differently.
The possessed microwave: