Creating More Space Without an Addition: Clever Interior IdeasWhy Illumination Should Be a Priority in Any Home Upgrade 31
The tap wasn't even technically malfunctioning. Just temperamental. You had to twist it slightly left and then back into position to get non-freezing water. If you went too far, it'd let out a weird sound. Not deafening, but sharp — like a rusty hinge with opinions. I put up with it for years. Blamed the pipes. Blamed the building. Blamed everything except the fact that I hadn't done anything.
One Tuesday, I was home by accident, waiting for the pasta water to boil, and it hit me: I can't stand this setup.
It wasn't a moment of clarity. More like a feeling that had finally spread to my ribs. The cutlery tray slid around, the bench was barely usable, and the cupboard door was my arch nemesis every time I bent down. 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 “why is it behind the fridge?” The question mark wasn't accidental. The switch really was behind the fridge.
I told myself I'd just fix that one thing. 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 get help. I probably should've. Instead, I borrowed a sledgehammer from 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 made excuses.
The project spiraled. Not in a disaster way, just... inevitably. I spent three hours googling “do I need primer?”. 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 isn't silent. Different sound cosyhomepro.com 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 crooked, 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, feels good.