Why Wait?

I recognize the irony that this blog post is titled “Why Wait?” when the last blog post I did was titled “Just Give It a Minute,” but I promise each thought has merit and they’re really talking about two different phenomena. Bear with me... 

I’ve lived in my current home for a little over five years, and now the time has come to list this house so I can get moved to Delaware and be closer to my family, downsizing to a smaller, easier-to-maintain condo or something in order to be more flexible, travel more, and enjoy my new semi-retired work-from-home and work-on-the-road lifestyle. So, before the photographers come from the real estate company in mid-April, I’ve been doing some long-overdue updating.

For five years, I’ve lived with a Pepto Bismol pink bathroom, complete with chipping paint on the trim, a yellowed and ancient medicine cabinet with non-functioning lights, and a gold, glittery light switch cover. I’ve also lived with a seafoam green guest room, a cabinet in the hall that has a door with a mind of its own, constantly swinging open without notice and catching me as I walked by, and a ceiling fan in my master bedroom that was down to one blade because the other three had fallen off in short order after I thrice got whacked in the head by the oversized, antique-looking rotating fan attached to the low ceiling,. All issues are easy fixes, and I had paint, a new medicine cabinet, a new light switch cover, a new ceiling fan, and a clasp for the cabinet all purchased and ready…just sitting in my to-do area, waiting for “someday” when I would have the oomph to get them taken care of.

For five years, I haven’t done those projects. Yes, I did others. I had the electric blue that covered the main living areas and hall painted over years ago, got a new roof, did a good amount of landscaping, put up curtains, took down old window coverings, and did quite a bit to make this 1950 brick cottage I call home feel more like my own instead of the previous owners’, whom I’m convinced hadn’t decorated since at least 1960. But, some of these last projects just sat there. To my credit, in February 2020 I did have a contractor on the line who had quoted gutting my pink bathroom to make it sleek and modern, but before work could start the building material supply chain crisis hit hard and my quote doubled to the point where I called it off.

But now, the photographer is scheduled and my house listing will be up within a month and these projects just had to be done. My amazing Realtor® (so amazing that she’s been featured on House Hunters multiple times, if I may brag a little about the incredible human she, who I’m blessed to also call a friend) gave me the name of a friend of hers who does handyperson work, so I hired him to do that final bit of painting, ceiling fan installation, and medicine cabinet replacing. And, oh my dear, does my home look so different now! I still have a little more to do in the newly-painted spaces, like making valences for the windows (bought fabric yesterday for that) and staging them for the photographer and house showings, but the change from those obnoxious colors to clean, crisp white walls is dramatic and so overdue.

Why do we wait on things like this? Or, more specifically, why do I wait on things like this? For five years, I’ve been a battered homeowner by an attacking ceiling fan to my forehead and an attacking hallway cabinet to my left arm. For five years, I’ve apologized to every single houseguest about the pink bathroom with yellowing, non-functioning medicine cabinet and peeling trim. For five years, I’ve told guests to try to ignore the green walls in that guest room. For five years, I stared at that gold glittery light switch cover, when all it would take is two quick unscrew-and-rescrew gestures to have it replaced. Oy.

Now it’s finally updated. It should have all been done five years ago so I could have enjoyed the updates and not have them done just as I’m about to leave this place. Though, I do suppose that this all has one silver lining—or, should I call it a gold glittery lining—as I’ve saved that bathroom light switch cover for wherever I may end up in Delaware. It seems, somehow, I’ve grown a bit fond of it.