There is this content creator that posts videos about his old house and fixing it up, except he does so with self-deprecating humor and many clips of him crying in the car on his way to Home Depot. Albeit filled with profanity, his videos are very relatable, and they do make me laugh. A few weeks ago, I felt like I was a special guest on his YouTube channel as my boyfriend and I finally addressed the bowing boards on my front porch. I had ignored them all summer and tried to pretend that they would just go back to normal. I was wrong, obviously.

I've peeled away enough layers of projects on this house by now to know that if I prepare for a one-day project, it will double at the very least. My front porch was no exception. As we ripped away the boards, I finally understood what my boyfriend had meant all those times he said it wasn't attached properly. He was right, and because of that, water was hitting the porch when it rained and bouncing back up into the side of the house. Multiply that by twenty years, and suddenly the deck is pulling away from the house and the clapboards with it. We took off some siding and found rotten wood crumbling underneath. I imagined my Lowe's credit card coming to life and laughing at me from inside my purse.

But here's the thing: in the past, this would have debilitated me a bit. I would have somehow found a way to blame myself for this; if only I knew better. If only I'd asked about this when I bought the house. Why didn't I see this coming? Instead, I thought of that content creator, and in a weird way, that brought me some much-needed comic relief in a not-so-funny moment. It stings a little less to know that my house and its issues aren't unique.

The reality is, like every other house on planet earth, my house needs routine love and care. We fixed the side of the house and rebuilt the porch. This was one of the first projects I participated in that I started to enjoy. I felt so much lighter after we took the last trip to the dump with all the materials and scrap. I feel relieved we addressed it when we did and that it didn't turn into something catastrophic or super-expensive. This is part of the home ownership game, and as much as I don't want to play it sometimes, it tends to be a lot more enjoyable when I lean into it. Although I don't see myself chronicling my projects via TikTok or YouTube any time soon, the much-needed humor from those who do certainly lightens the mood when it feels overwhelming.

Paige O. Roberts has a degree in Creative Writing from Southern New Hampshire University. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Henniker Review, Sidereal Magazine, Rejection Letters, and Cypress. She has been nominated for a Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize. She lives in northern New Hampshire, where she owns and operates a pet boutique called Tailswag.