ice

86:365

The day started with so much promise.

And then it just cratered.

At 4:45 p.m.

I think for my own sanity, my own mental well being, I need to stop going to the job site to check progress. Because when I get there and there is no progress (okay, very little) I feel like ripping someone's arm off and beating him with it. And once that phase passes I just feel tired and drained and depressed all over again.

It should take six months to build a 3,000 square foot custom home.

We are in month 8. Going into month 9.

I am rapidly reaching the "I don't give a f*ck" phase because I can't, for the life of me, figure out why shit isn't happening at any sort of steady pace. Forget urgency...that has been non-existent. (Except when we need to drop everything and do something. Like when I had to leave work in the middle of the day late last summer to select toilets. THAT DAY. RIGHT THE F*CK NOW. The plumbing then wasn't installed for about a month and the damn toilets are STILL in boxes in the garage. Right.)

We were supposed to be in around the first of the year. My appliances have been sitting in the garage since the first week in December, because that's when they were supposed to be installed. That's almost four months, people. Think I should buy an extended warranty since they'll be out of the manufacturer's warranty by the time they are installed and we turn them on for the first time?

I got word from my lighting company today that the fixtures we selected for the closets have since been discontinued and are now out of stock. (This also happened with my bathtub, by the way.) He waits so long to order things that they become unavailable and I get to start the search all over again. Because, you know, I have so much spare time to do things twice.

So the first of the year came and went. Then Valentine's Day. Now we are at Easter and I am STILL not in my own f*cking house.

I have reached my limit. I am ready to go postal. I wanted to set a firm deadline and impose financial repercussions for missing it from the beginning and was counseled to not rush the builder. "You want quality construction, not something thrown up quickly." That made sense, so I have refrained from pushing.

I am now firmly convinced that this was a mistake. No, we shouldn't have said he had to have it built in three months or something unattainable like that. But I think nine months is too long, and I think this is ridiculous, and I think we don't have a f*cking leg to stand on to push him at all at this point.

My cool as ice veneer with this whole project is starting to crack. And it's not gonna be pretty when it goes.

I'm done. D-O-N-E.

Someone call me when it's over. I'll start packing boxes again. Until then, I think I just need to stay away.