I am in the middle of redoing my kitchen. So far today I have made 2 trips to Lowes, spent more money than I care to admit and I have spent the last several hours stripping wallpaper and puttying cracks.  One more section of wall and I can call it a day.

This wasn't my plan. At least...not so soon after the Great Bathroom Remodel. I had planned to take a few weeks, maybe even a month or two, and catch my breath. Replenish my bank account. Regain my sanity.  But when you find kitchen tile on sale for 57 cents a square foot and the 2 friends who have offered to lay it for you out of the goodness of their hearts happen to have the time to do it, you jump in. Or at least I did.       

And so now my kitchen is in a complete and utter state of disarray. I am covered in an unfortunate combination of adhesive remnants and white powder from sanding the putty. And I am overwhelmed thinking about the sheer quantity of painting that needs to get done - including the mothereffing ceiling. 

These are short term inconveniences and within the next 2 weeks, my kitchen will look shiny and new.  I will no longer have to wince at the beige walls, the crooked molding, the cracked ceiling, and the ugly wall paper border.  There will be no more holes in the door frame from where a board was once nailed up. The chipped, peeling paint on the cabinets and windows will be smooth and uniform.  I will never again have to step foot on the hideous green linoleum floor that is so dirty it is literally beyond cleaning and that is rotted out in one section and held together by duct tape in others.  The only thing I may not have is a new stove and frankly, I am not sure that I am going to buy one.

The thing that I have been thinking about all day is that I am not doing this for me.  I am doing this for the future owner of this house.  I am investing copious amounts of time, energy and to a lesser degree money and it is all for someone else's benefit. And while I feel a sense of pride and accomplishment for every DIY project that I take on and tackle successfully, I also feel just the slightest bit of disappointment knowing that I don't get to truly enjoy the benefits of my efforts. 

I am also wondering why I didn't do this sooner. Why didn't I create a home for myself when I first moved in? But I suppose I knew on some level when I moved in here last summer that this was temporary. A roof over my head. A place to sleep. And not much more.  There was no need to rip up the ugly flooring or repaint the walls.  This was just a house. It was never going to be my home.