where wildly different is perfectly normal
Deferred maintenance
Deferred maintenance

Deferred maintenance

Ok, quiz time for those of you who own your house. Sorry…rather, you are in the process of sending large sums of money to a financial institution for the privilege of eventually owning the location at which you currently reside. This is for you.

Raise your hand if you can think of one home improvement you would like to do. This could be as small as a new decorative pillow for the couch your children use as a springboard for screaming COWABUNGA!!! as they jump on each other, all the way up to new laminate floors for your entire first level and don’t tell me if you’re doing this because I’ll cry…not just from envy but because the carpet tacks are poking through and I probably stepped on one. Again. Or because that was the mother of all run-on sentences. Hmmm…a few of you.

Now raise your hand if there is any deferred maintenance on your home. Peeling paint, that one crack that needs repairing, the single outlet in the basement bathroom that doesn’t work and every single visiting guest tells you and then immediately forget to repair. Anyone out there? Considerably more.

Finally, raise your hand if that deferred maintenance list is longer than your kids’ list to Santa. That would be where we are right now. I’m more than a little freaked about it. It’s not as though we’ve been ignoring our home and its needs, but the boys’ needs are more immediate and they’re louder about theirs. Squeaky wheel gets the grease, that sort of thing. Note to self: grease the garage door, the damned thing is louder than the the schoolyard.

As I’ve been clearing out the house I’ve been making mental notes of things that need to be repaired/replaced/rushed to the corner dumpster. My memory requires that any list over three be written down, so I’ve essentially forgotten 98.95732% of those items and will have to go through the house again with a pad of paper and likely a stiff drink. Guess how much fun I’m having doing this at the holidays. Every time I see something that requires attention I hear little cha-ching sounds, and they aren’t the good ones that mean money is flowing into the coffers. They’re the icky ones that make me sad that my eggs are too aged to donate. Le sigh.

There will be no noting of the deferred maintenance today, as it is Decorate For Christmas Day, followed immediately by Since It’s Already Torn Apart To Get The Decorations Let’s Clear Out The Basement Storage Closet Day. The day will end with Rocking In The Corner And Whimpering Into A Glass Of Wine Evening. The long weekend will close with List All Home Things That Need Attention Sunday.

Unless I can defer that until later.

Whaddya think?

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