I spend most of these days daydreaming about my room renovation. I still can't afford it — between the looming visa application for the trip Mom wants to go on and the car I have to buy, it's just not realistic right now.
So I'm just taking my time, trying to enjoy this drawn-out planning phase. In a way, I'm relieved it's not possible yet. My drafts from about a year ago are wildly different from what they are today.
My latest idea is to paint the inner bookshelves the color of deep, dark, dried blood. I think it would pair nicely with the creamy whiteness of everything else.
Whites are complicated. Right now, I'm still leaning toward a white with a pink undertone, something that would only be noticeable against warm light.
I'm also toying with the idea of having a stone tabletop. I like the idea of working on a cold, hard surface. I don't know, that might be too expensive.
And this is not just plain indecision; I'm slowly learning about my real tastes, what I'm willing to live with for... well, the rest of my life, I suppose. I also have to take the style of this house into account.
The image is a 90s IKEA teen boy's bedroom decorated by his wannabe decorator mom whose personal frou-frou style bleeds into everything. I'm talking about blood a lot? Like Boy Meets World x Matilda Goad.
Anyway, this room needs a lot of work before the actual redesign. We got this house with basic finishes, and I just can't work with the floor laminates they chose. The walls have to be sanded down and repainted.
My old AC tended to leak and it ruined the paint beneath it, causing cracks and bubbling. And since redoing it was too much of an undertaking, I just covered it up with wallpaper. That needs to be removed now.
I can't do any of these things myself. I'm dumb and accident-prone. I would have to YouTube this shit and buy tools and materials? No fucking way.
The trouble with that is finding a decent contractor. Every time we hire people to work on little things around the house, we always have trouble understanding them. They'll do the job (poorly, most of the time), and they never can really explain what they're doing. Mom and I are too clueless to understand this "man stuff."
If I hire a proper contractor, it's going to cost as much as a down payment for a fancy car, not a basic little hatchback. That's just how much things cost now, but dang, it would hurt to pay that much for such a teeny-tiny room.
But it's my room. It's my world. And I guess it's worth that much. Sigh. It sucks to be poor.