Why I hate my new kitchen

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It’s not that I’m stressed about it, not really. It’s not taking forever, the builders are working hard. I have a microwave and a fridge and running water. These are first world luxuries, even I know that. It’s okay, and more: soon it will be better than okay. Soon it will be beautiful.
It’s only a week. It’s just that a week is a long time when the room you spend most of your waking time in, the room you eat in, pray in, read in, write in, chat in and dream in is gone. I feel a bit homeless even in my own home.

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It’s gonna be good. It’s gonna be beautiful. It’s gonna be amazing and I’m gonna love it.
And I’ll keep telling myself these things because, to tell you the truth, it’s actually really stressful.

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Beautiful

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This is my new kitchen window. All I wanted to do yesterday was sit and stare at it and think about how beautiful it is. I love it. I told my friend the other day that having it makes me feel like a princess. Truly.
I know, I know. You probably don’t see it. Not as beautiful. Not like I do. But then again you don’t know the journey of this kitchen window. You don’t know the difficulties we’ve had with it, and you don’t know the vision we have for what it will be like when it’s all completed. All you see is a snapshot.
Remember this.
Remember this particularly if you feel un-beautiful, or stuck in process, or like you’re stuck in a rut and powerless to change: beauty (and value) are more than just a snapshot. They’re about knowing the journey.
If you feel less than fully lovely today, remember the long ago person
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