Inside and out.
I broke down a few times yesterday morning.
At some point in all remodel projects, there comes a point where it feels as though nothing is getting done. It happened with each of the bathrooms in the other house. It feels like it’s happening with everything on this house.
Most of that is mental. The fact that nothing is happening is the difference between my expectations and reality.
My work friends asked me how my weekend was. I told them I struggled and didn’t feel like I got anything done. (I haven’t felt like I’ve been able to work in a week.) Over the course of the call, I mentioned we had plowed a field and planted an orchard on Saturday night and Monday morning.
“So your idea of an unproductive weekend is planting 60 trees?”
He’s right. I got stuff done. It just wasn’t the stuff I felt like I needed to do.
I need my own space. My bed and workspace need to be in different locations. I need to live in the place I own.
There may be other issues. I might be struggling with more and this is just the most obvious stuff. But it’s been the most obvious stuff for almost 3 whole months.
I spent yesterday setting floors. All day. Hands and knees. I hurt. Shoulders, knees, elbows. All of it.
And I will again. But I’m closer to getting things done. A lot closer.
And maybe I will hurt a little less.