I'm 50.
Half a freakin' century. A century is a really long time.
So this weekend when I began a new demo/remodel project in the basement, I not only quickly realized I was in over my head - I got weepy about it.
Seriously.
Luckily... being 50 has the added advantage of being able to afford professional help in such matters.
My choices would be - a therapist to help me work through my issues, a doctor to prescribe some sort of hormonal replacement, or a handyman to do the job I am clearly too old to do.
I bucked up and hired the handyman.
My workshop...before the makeover (yes. its that messy... can you believe this is in MY house)
3 comments:
clearly you don't know the definition of messy
Me too, that and the addittion of M.E. has rendered me incapable of doing any reno work. I cried. A lot.
Hey, 50 is the new 40.... we are jealous.
I shudder to think about a remodel over my head... but then again, I did light a wall on fire twice. That might have been over my head now that I think about it. Good thing Sara was a fire-fighter.
Post a Comment