One winter afternoon, I stood in the passage and realized I hated it. Not in a “burn it down” kind of way. More like when you outgrow something without noticing. Like a stale jacket, or a shirt that starts smelling weird no matter how often it's washed.It was barely lit, and there was this awkward spot where the paint peeled like old glue. Just
You know that moment when a area just... loses its spark? Nothing obvious. No burst pipes. Just a gradual feeling that things don't flow anymore.Maybe the mornings feel dull. Or maybe you've been lifting the same door for months. You keep putting it off — until you don't.That's when rethinking your layout starts. Not always with a magazine spread
That tap wasn't even broken. Just temperamental. You had to nudge it slightly left and then back into position to get non-freezing water. If you went too far, it'd let out a weird sound. Not deafening, but sharp — like a rusty hinge with opinions. I put up with it for years. Blamed the pipes. Blamed the building. Blamed everything except the fact