Until recently, I thought the expression that something makes your head spin was just a figure of speech. I now know it’s real. After my husband and I sold our Happier Yellow House in a whirlwind deal, without even listing it, we had 45 days to find a new house, pack and move. During half of t hose days, we were away on a long-planned, non-refundable summer vacation, which was supposed to be relaxing, but which turned into a nonstop frenzy of long-distance broker negotiations.  For most of those 45 nights, whenever I sat down after a busy day, my world would whirl, as if I were on my own personal merry-go-round. I’d lock my widened eyes on something I could count on, usually my husband, and wait till the spinning stopped.  I Googled causes of dizziness. Stress and anxiety topped the list. I tried to talk myself steady. What’s to worry about? I’m just selling a house I love for a house I hope I’ll love, while ridiculous amounts of money fly around, packing panic paralyzes me, and I try to wrangle herds of repairmen and subcontractors.  As electricians, HVAC experts, door hangers, plumbers and roofers swarmed the Happier Yellow House making repairs per the home inspection, the sellers of the Happiest Yellow House were graciously allowing flooring contractors, painters and landscape designers in to provide estimates for improvements we wanted to make.  No sooner did my husband and I pop the champagne to celebrate the sale of two houses than the renovations began. It gets worse before it gets better — The living room on day one of ownership, during demo, and 16 days later. Photos by Marni Jameson. Although I have built homes from the ground up and endured many remodels, I’d forgotten the horrors. On day one of the demolition, my plan was to sit peacefully on the front porch of my new house and work on my laptop while occasionally ducking my head inside to monitor progress. My husband dropped me off, then drove on to his quiet, peaceful, clean, civilized, air-conditioned office. I was soon miserable. The September Florida air was hot and humid. The construction noise was rock-concert-level loud. Inside, men wielding jackhammers and wearing masks, ear protection and knee pads were busting up the tile flooring and dumping large crashing scoops of debris into a truck bed, causing me to make sure my molars were still intact. The once pristine house looked like the intersection of the Great American Dust Bowl and Armageddon. On a scale of one to 10, my headache was an 11. I ventured into the house with a bandana over my face and my fingers in my ears hoping to find a can of something cold in the refrigerator. I found the fridge in the family room unplugged. Then I asked myself what anyone who has ever been through this rationally asks: Why? It gets worse before it gets better — The living room on day one of ownership, during demo, and 16 days later. Photos by Marni Jameson. Because, like childbirth, remodeling a house is painful but worth it, otherwise the world would be filled with only children living in rundown homes. While I have never heard anyone say how much they love living through a home remodel, I have found and learned ways to make a miserable process less miserable: Keep your eye on the goal. Pain now will pay off later. Now that we’re both in our 60s, my husband and I don’t want to wait 10 years to get the house we want. As this may be our last home (which I know I said about our past two homes, but this time I mean it), I want it to be what I want. My husband says I bring to mind lyrics from a popular Queen song: “I want it all. I want it all. I want it all and I want it now!”  Sequence the project: Shorten the duration of a remodel by having your plans, materials and contractors lined up, and knowing the order in which work needs to happen. In our case, the critical path was demo floors and baths, lay wood flooring and bath tiles, install bathroom vanities, paint, and change ceiling fans and light fixtures. When the messiest work was over, we scheduled the movers two weeks after we closed on the house. We lived in the home while less intrusive work continued, that is, as bookcases, bathroom sinks, faucets, and appliances went in.  Call in your markers. To start remodeling Day 1, I mined my contact list for workers I could rely on. I tapped an interior designer to help me make quick decisions and give the home a sure hand. I selected the flooring company that was most responsive. I brought in a painter who’s like family by now, and a handyman I’ve used for years who could double as a general contractor. Run the show. Even with excellent workers, I still needed to keep a steady hand on the tiller. I sent 30 text messages a day confirming who was coming when and whether the materials they needed were on site (often not). I felt like the leader of a rock band. I’ve got Mike on walls, Joe on faucets, Sally on bathrooms, Raoul on floors. Expect mishaps. As tightly as I tried to manage the project, a toilet showed up with no seat, we fell short one box of bathroom-floor tile, cabinet doors for the built-ins came in wrong twice — once the wrong style, once the wrong size — and yards of needed baseboard got thrown out by mistake. Don’t choose a fixer. To avoid the above-mentioned madness, and I wouldn’t blame you, buy a turnkey, move-in-ready house. You will pay more, but you’ll save in lost brain cells. However, for my money, given a choice between paying more for turnkey, and paying less for an outdated structurally sound house that I can fix up my way, I’ll take the latter.  And while I know that will mean lots of dust, jackhammers, nail guns, and head-spinning, I also know that in the end, it will be what I want, want, want.  ...read more read less