When most parents took out a mortgage to pay for their child's college expenses, mine took out a mortgage to raise the roof. And I mean that literally. They raised the roof of our sweet and quaint Cape Cod house to make it look like a Georgian inspired Colonial, with a bit of a modern flair: we have a skylight in the center of our dining room.

Most people would be grateful for the revamp: an additional bathroom, two new bedrooms to replace my single slanted-roof, yet oversized bedroom upstairs, a larger kitchen, a new dining room, larger living room, a study, a family area, a master bath (with jacuzzi), and a walk in closet. Yes, most people would not have any complains to the aforementioned renovations. In fact, I think almost everyone would embrace the remodel with open arms. It's true that at first, I was excited about the construction. But one's excitement over home renovation is much like one's excitement in a relationship. There is a honeymoon period, and it passes... fast.

It also didn't help that my father, an architect, also considers himself a contractor. So after the real contractors built the frame and installed the roof and the siding, my father decided he would finish the house himself. 2007 will mark The House's four year anniversary as a work-in-progress. When there was the slightest imperfection in the way the real contractors installed a window, my father would redo it. He actually is that anal about The House, which is why I consider it my arch enemy.

We used to be good friends. I think most nemeses were friends at one point. Look at Superman and Lex, the Professor and Magneto, uhh, Rocky and Breanna on Laguna Beach. My point is, I never expected The House I lived in to become my arch enemy. It just sort of happened.

The House's attacks

1. The renovations created a severe allergy condition to dust and mold. I think it may be trying to kill me through dust particles.
2. As the wicked witch uses her little monkeys as spies and helpers, the house employs Craftsman tools from Sears to discreetly murder me. I fear, that at night, the sharp blades of the Compound Miter Saw will unhinge and roll across my neck.
3. The house has even set up traps for me, which could easily appear as accidents in any police report. Take for example, the lack of a staircase railing. One false move, and I would be tumbling down the newly varnished wood floors.
4. Because the cabinets have not been installed in the kitchen, we have no kitchen sink and have to use the laundry room sink to wash dishes (even though there's a perfectly new dishwasher sitting in a box in the garage!). The laundry room is in the spider infested basement. I have a case of arachnaphobia.
5. The house is trying to get me fired from my job. Until my room is completed, my dresser/drawers will remain in the basement. And the extra time to walk up/down the stairs to pick out an outfit is causing chronic lateness.

These are just a few of The House's transgressions against me. And I have yet to develop a solid superpower to protect myself from its attacks. I feel as though, I almost stand powerless against The House, because its kryptonite comes in so many shades of green. For the time being, time will stand as my shield, my defense. The more time passes, the closer The House will be to its completed state.

Like most nemeses, I believe that The House just wants some sort of closure or victory from past transgressions against him. Perhaps, its completion will satisfy him enough to end the rivalry between us, so that I can redecorate my newly furnished room in peace. Maybe it's just angry for being torn down and for being left unfinished. Until then, I'm cautious of the stairs. Unfortunately, I can't keep the Miter Saw out, as all our doors have circular holes waiting for door knobs. I guess you win some, and you lose some.

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Read about everyone else's nemeses at Sunday Scribblings.

Labels: Writing Prompts