We had no garage at the time, and my husband was remodeling the bathroom. He'd already put in a new kitchen floor, so I was used to a stove and refrigerator setting in there, but that was only for a couple days.
This bathroom thing took awhile. And for a couple days, we took sponge baths. My good dishes set on the dining room table since the china closet had to be moved out of the way—and so did the table.
My husband hadn't even looked for a job yet because he'd moved at the start of December and had a nice sum of money from his house sale. His days were spent as Mr. Fixer Upper.
We hadn't really planned on changing things right away, but when the frig leak ruined the flooring in the kitchen, he went to work on other parts of the house.
All of the supplies and new furnishings were kept inside the house. Yes, inside. Where we were living. Toilet in its box. In the living room. Bath tub. In the living room. Table saw, bead board, caulking supplies. In the living room. And there was still room for us to maneuver onto the couch. I know. Crazy. Crowded.
I stored extra toilet paper on top of the small couch in our bedroom. The bedroom got another closet. One just for him.
I came home from a basketball game to him sanding the top of his dresser closet. The thing was so smooth. But he stunk. I don't think he'd bathed for a few days—even though the bathroom was done at that point.
"What's the use?" he said. "I'm just going to stink more tomorrow."
Those early days of married life taught me what it meant to live with other people, not just a dog. Oh, forgot to mention, we had two of those running around.
Have you gone through a mess in your living space? How did you cope with it?