Imagine dying and not knowing it. OK, that?s far-fetched. Imagine your kitchen and powder room are being remodeled. Take my word for it. It?s like you died and went to hell.
First, there?s the pre-remodeling cleanout of every drawer and cabinet. At this stage, you can marvel at the stupid utensils you?ve accumulated over the years. What made you buy a heavy metal device that cores and peels apples? You?ll never know. Let it go. It?s not important.
From there, you reach the actual gates of Hades, but have yet to feel its flames. You are foolishly optimistic as workers arrive and begin ripping things up. “Fabulous,” you think. “The project is under way.”
Then reality sets in. You want breakfast? Your fridge is in your den; your coffeemaker and toaster oven are attached by extension cord to the outlet in your dining room. You have no running water. No kitchen TV on which to watch the Baltimore morning news or CNN. Your plastic knife threatens to break as you spread butter on your toast, which is served on a Styrofoam plate. You eat your breakfast surrounded by dust in the company of some guy who smells like cigarettes and tells you there?s no way to put a recessed light where you wanted it, and by the way, there?s a dead cat behind the drywall above the pantry. You must constantly haul your trash out to the garage so your dog won?t eat your leftovers. Life sucks. And it will keep on sucking for weeks. Mephistopheles is a permanent houseguest.
In the depths of hell, here?s the only bit of heaven you will find: You may lack what we once considered modern conveniences, but you do have the amenities of the 21st century. So cheer up. Who needs a bathroom on the first floor and a kitchen sink with running water when you have a cell phone, a PC and a BlackBerry?
Deborah Stone?s column runs every other Thursday. E-mail her at [email protected].
