The porcelain is cold against her shins, and the sound of the handheld showerhead spraying against a plastic salad spinner is a rhythm Melissa never thought would become the soundtrack of her mornings. It is 7:13 a.m. on a Tuesday. The steam in the bathroom smells faintly of sawdust and grout because the barrier between ‘construction zone’ and ‘living quarters’ dissolved 23 days ago. Melissa is currently crouched over the clawfoot tub, washing breakfast dishes in the same place she washes her hair, because her kitchen is currently a hollowed-out ribcage of 2x4s and dangling copper. Her phone, resting precariously on the edge of the soap dish, vibrates with 3 new notifications.
The Dependency Trap:
One is from the plumber, claiming he is ‘just waiting on a valve’ before he can finish the rough-in. The second is from the flooring crew, who are 13 minutes late and counting. The third is a calendar alert for a meeting she has to attend in 43 minutes, where she will have to explain to her boss why her background for the Zoom call looks like a bunker in a war zone. We are told that home renovation is a series of logical steps, a sequence of events managed by professionals. In reality, it is a form of high-stakes performance art