Today was a painful day, financially not physically although I think sometimes the two are connected. Having up until now dealt with the branded building company itself and thus employing some of the tools of the 21st Century such as BACS transfers – where money whizzes so effortlessly from your account that it almost seems painless -today we parted company with our first cheque in the crudest of manners. I placed it, mid brick (I waited patiently while he scraped the surplus mortar off and gave me a little update on his brick laying strategy of which I understood not a word) directly into the builder’s grubby hand for him to tuck away in his pocket. A friend made me chuckle this evening when she commented that builders are the only people left in the world who still have sugar in their tea but it occurs to me after todays exchange that they are also the only people left in the world who accept, in fact prefer, cheques.
In addition I received a speeding ticket. Or rather, S received a letter asking him to identify the perilous driver who was going at 36mph in a 30mph zone on the 1st January. It was me. The reason why it’s relevant here is that I was driving around South London like a mad thing trying to buy our sanitary ware on the last day of the sales. Gallingly, I was unsuccessful and came home empty handed and in a filthy mood. That’ll learn me, as our family says.
The trouble is, the emotion that drove me that day is so ingrained I don’t know if Ill ever change. I have this belief that I can achieve the impossible against a ticking clock driven by enthusiasm rather than knowledge in addition to a warped sense of prioritisation. That particular day would have been much better spent packing up our kitchen as we hadn’t actually chosen any sanitary ware for size, form or function and I struggle to assess the quality of one toilet from another. S was busy doing more important tasks in preparation for the builders imminent arrival and so I wasted a morning at the cost of an £80 fine and a speed awareness course.
But I don’t learn.
Today I wrote an over optimistic list of what I wanted to achieve in the window of time O is at nursery which included packing up the kitchen, spending some time looking over the budget, filling, sanding and painting over the fixings of my wine crate boxes and stripping two doors and a banister. I had barely 5 hours. I ended up managing to pack up and move the kitchen upstairs though the builders didn’t fulfil their end of the bargain and help me move the units – so I now have nowhere to unpack it to. I conducted a fairly useful and reassuring exercise on the budget which I now have to talk through with S who has the duel role of Financial and Technology Director. I nearly finished the job of finishing off the crates but an emergency trip to Farrow and Ball was needed. And I made an absolute mess of the doors.
Rather than try and strip a small section effectively I tried to strip too much too quickly making them, for now, even more unsightly. In all honestly, I should have left them and turned my hand to wallpaper stripping instead which is a far more pressing job. The doors will be a labour of love and a project, but not one for now. To be continued….