construction · renovations

The Limits of Sanity

Our list of things to do is pretty long and our timeline is pretty tight. When we tell people about it, we don’t generally get positive reactions to the viability of our dreams. A few of our friends and coworkers are just waiting for us to fail so they can laugh at me when I come to work with drywall dust in my hair.

You’re going to be living in a construction zone for three years, they say. Maybe longer.

Our response? Let us prove you wrong.

At least, I hope that’s what we’ll do. I would love to blow them away with how quickly we perform some solid, quality work. I want to shock them when I bring in pictures of the completed and cleaned up demo, the new walls going up, the tiles and hardwood in place, the bathroom fixtures in, the kitchen ready to go and the basement apartment shiny and beautiful, all before April 31st. But, despite our bravado and confidence, we both know that’s unlikely to happen. I know I’ll be moving in to a half finished house.

But what, exactly can I live with? And what can’t I live without?

I can live with a dusty house. If we have to, we’ll make sure the dust doesn’t travel too much into the basement and set up a temporary home down there. I can live with that. I can probably live without a kitchen as long as we have a table for chopping veggies and a barbeque for cooking meat. At least for a while. I can live without a living room, without a coffee table, without a TV.

But I can’t live without a computer. Or the Internet. Or my blog. I can’t live without a shower and a toilet and at least one sink. I can’t live without at least a subfloor. I can’t live without some kind of counter or table level surface. I can’t live without a working fridge.

And I can’t live in a construction zone without getting out of it sometimes. This is where the Husband and I probably differ. He would be perfectly content to never escape except for work, to come home every day and eat dry cereal for dinner and immediately get to work. Me, on the other hand? I don’t eat cereal for dinner. And the dust will start to drive me crazy. I’m going to need my times away, coffee with friends, long walks with Mocha, dawdling on the way home from the subway.

Yes, I can live in a construction zone. But I can’t live in one forever.

— The Wife

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