Home Makeover Mistakes You'll Regret — and Fix ThemDIY vs. Contractor-Based Projects: What's Better? 53

Home Makeover Mistakes You'll Regret — and Fix ThemDIY vs. Contractor-Based Projects: What's Better? 53

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The tap wasn't even broken. Just annoying. You had to nudge it slightly left and then back toward center to get usable water. If you turned it too fast, it'd screech. Not aggressive, but oddly high-pitched — like a kettle screaming. I let it go for too long. Blamed the plumbing. Blamed the setup. Blamed everything except myself.

One afternoon, I was home before dark, waiting for the pasta water to boil, and it hit me: I hate this kitchen.

It wasn't a rage fit. More like a background noise that had finally gotten louder. The cutlery tray slid around, the bench was too short, and the top cabinet door kept hitting me every time I opened the dishwasher. I'd started to flinch early.

I pulled out a receipt back and wrote “new tap” at the top. Beneath that: “actual counter space,” then “move light switch?” The question mark wasn't accidental. The switch really was behind the fridge.

I told myself I'd keep it simple. Just swap out the tap. Easy. But standing in the hardware store three days later, confused by finishes, I somehow ended up with a brochure for splashbacks under my arm. And then came the demolition.

I didn't call a tradesperson. I probably should've. Instead, I borrowed a sledgehammer from click here my friend Rory, who told me to "be careful-ish" Not exactly the OSHA standard, but I ran with it.

Taking down that ugly shelf felt like the beginning of something. Against what? I'm not totally sure. Maybe the version of me that lived with forehead bruises.

The project spiraled. Not in a disaster way, just... as you'd expect. I spent three hours debating grout colors. Got into a minor argument with a guy on a Reddit thread about silicone gaps. I still don't really trust epoxy, but I'm convinced he was probably guessing.

And the new tap? Still squeaks. Different sound now. Softer. Almost charming. I think I like it. Or maybe I've made peace with it.

It's not perfect. The tile near the bin's slanted, and the outlet by the toaster wobbles. But when I step in, I don't brace. That alone is a win.

And that notebook? Still on the bench. Nothing new written. Which, honestly, might be the real achievement.