I think I am settling into responsible adulthood (not to be confused with on-my-own-but-living-in-a-dump-and-barely-surviving adulthood) a little too comfortably. Lately, I notice myself doing things my parents would do, and what's more, I don't even mind.
For example, I am blogging today about installing a new kitchen faucet. Oh yes, I find this interesting enough to write about.
A few weeks ago, my fiance decided he wanted a new kitchen faucet; the one we had sat kind of low, and it's a pain to wash big pots and things. He wanted one that sat a little higher, and I said while we're at it, we should also get one with a sprayer.
We spent an evening searching for that perfect faucet and finally found one we both liked. My fiance tried to install it the next day, and much to our mutual disappointment, the water filter we have -- which screws on the end of the faucet -- didn't fit.
We can't not use a water filter; our water tastes disgusting without it. So back out we went, with the filter in tow, to find one it would fit. We found one we both really liked and took it home, but when my fiance went to install it, he realized that it actually sits much lower than the old one did.
Determined not to end the evening without a new faucet, we immediately returned the one we'd bought and chose another, hoping the third time would be the charm. And it was. The new faucet looks lovely, fits perfectly and serves us fine, filtered water.
But it's things like this that make me realize just how much of a grownup I really am, because the only reason this feels like a sad way to spend an evening is because I didn't get to put on my sweatpants for an extra two hours.
1 comment:
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