After a fairly busy weekend, spent mostly with my mother in law and D, we have returned to a strangely half finished house. It's almost like one of those Magic Eye pictures; I keep thinking if I squint my eyes up hard enough, I'll be able to miraculously make it look completed, rather than a slightly haphazard mess.
The kitchen units are all in, complete with ravishing white ceramic sink and flashy electric hob, but they are sitting amidst a horrid half smoothed off concrete floor, and set against a backdrop of cardboard and plywood, which is currently serving as our back wall. It looks like an interesting hybrid of lush traditional kitchen and scruffy garage.
Likewise, the bathroom is completely decked out in a range of tiles and swish showers etc, but you just can't escape the fact that the painting is only half finished, there is still an inch thick layer of plaster dust over everything, and the window needs to be taken out and replaced.
So it is interesting to live in at the moment. By interesting, I mean odd. I mean highly unrelaxing. I keep wandering around the house, complete with D balancing on my arm, looking despondently at all the jobs still to do, then deliberately trying to erase them from my mind again, as there are too many, and it sends me into a panic. I need one of those special devices they use in Men in Black to delete the knowledge from my brain, then I can live in happy ignorance, rather than waking in the night in a cold sweat at the thought of having to scrub my way through hideous amounts of dirt. And doing more painting. Ugh. I actually do have nightmares now, awful sinister dreams where pots of dulux are chasing me across bleak wastelands, sending out their armies of rollers and paint brushes to conquer me.
We've had some good news on the financial front though. Which is very lucky, given how horrendously poor we are right now. Yes, suburban mama has an official job again! Phew! Sweat has been duly wiped from my brow...
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