Week Nine: Lost Again
It seems that Week Nine was the week when I finally lost my sense of humour. The week I lost sight of the end goal ... the week I lost my sanity.
That's how it feels anyway.
I'm so tired of the dust. Of not just smelling it but also tasting it and also of the hay fever that it stirs up.
I'm tired of the noise that at times I feel as if I can't escape. Tired too of trying to be sensitive to the builders' needs and not playing music that only I like (so I don't play any - and I miss it).
I'm tired of being a prisoner in my room because I'm too nervous to leave it in case I bump into a builder or get in their way. (This was really bad when they were working in the hallway outside my room and I had to pass them every time I wanted to go to another part of the house.)
I'm tired of my makeshift kitchen and being able to only use one appliance at a time otherwise the power trips out. (Do you know how many meals can be cooked with just one appliance or how long it takes to put together a meat and potato and vegetable dish when you can only use the microwave or the oven or the slow cooker or the frying pan at any given time? I do!)
I'm tired of decisions. And bills. Both are endless. And inevitable.
There are no photos this week. I haven't lost my camera. I've just been too tired to document what has been a better-if-it's-forgotten-week (apart from the picture of the dust on my piano which reads Why bother? simply because that piano had been dusted only the previous day).
Perhaps by the end of this week, things will look brighter. I can only hope.